Slow Simple Start
by vandalvagabond
Summary: Waking up in a new world with powers? Fine, I can deal with that. Being accosted by people? I can deal with that. Waking up without my memories? That's not good. Making wrong choices right off the bat? Seems par on course. Breaking my own moral compass to do what is "necessary"? I guess I'm going there. (Worm CYOA SI)
1. Chapter 1

_**Story Warning: Descriptive scenes of sex, racism, etc.  
Fixed consistency error.**_

_**(Rated: M) for a reason.**_

**-VB-**

**20XX.X.X**

I stared down at my own hands. These weren't my hands. I remembered that scar across the palm of my hand; I got rid of that two years ago. Groaning, I stood up even as the most fantastical and ridiculous thoughts entered my mind.

'I mean I really doubt I traveled back in time,' I thought to myself as I stood up. 'Nope. That kind of thing doesn't happen. Those are just fantasies.'

I laughed nervously and a little painfully as I stumbled around, trying to find the exit of wherever I was.

Stumbling as pain spiked into my head, I whimpered pathetically. I collapsed on my knees and rolled onto my side. I gagged and gasped quietly but nothing else would come out of my mouth even as my eyes shed !&^% and $V$.

Finally, the pain stopped after what seemed like hours but I knew it had to be minutes. I stopped whimpering like a baby and gasped. I was… I wasn't new to this level of pain but God, can I never get used to it!

Taking small steps forward as the feeling in my body returned, I found myself slowly approaching a scene I was not used to.

As I walked out, I saw a city that I was unfamiliar with. In the distance was an oil rig in the middle of a bay. There was rising skyscraper with unfamiliar black crown against a red and yellow background. The skies were dreary.

The city below … was a shithole. I could tell even from here, where I must be on top of a building. Almost everywhere I saw, there was decay. Only one place, a clustered place, seemed to be okay. Everywhere else was … downtrodden. Ruined.

"There's no way I am in LA," I said to myself. I was too familiar with Los Angeles, and there was nowhere in LA that had an oil rig inside of a bay surrounded by this much degraded and unkempt buildings.

"Just the status of - WOW!" I yelled abruptly as something popped up in front of me. I jumped back and it followed me, and in panic, I kept on scrambling back until the back of my head hit the wall of the staircase I had climbed out of.

I hissed and held my head. When nothing else happened, I looked up.

**STATUS PAGE**

**NAME: ALAN MARRIS**

**RACE: -choose-**

**JOBS: -choose-**

**CANNOT EXIT STATUS PAGE UNTIL RACE AND JOB ARE CHOSEN.**

… okay. It is a rpg game status screen.

I looked around. It was nearing dusk and there was nothing around me. I saw the screen clearly but I saw no light being illuminated from it.

"What the fuck happened to me?" I muttered to myself.

I sat there and fried to think about what happened to me the day before all of this.

Except I couldn't remember.

I really really tried.

But I couldn't remember. I knew who I was and immediate facts about myself and the apparently dual liberal and conservative education I received on everything from history and politics to math and science.

But outside of that?

I laughed as tears gathered and trickled down the front of my face.

"Why the fuck do I know more about Naruto techniques than my own goddamn family!" I laughed hysterically as I curled up and began to sob.

It took me hours and by the time I was done, the sun had set and the night was cold. Yet numb ar I was, I felt none of the mildly warm winds sweeping out towards the sea.

Instead I did something I did know about. I held my hands up, grabbed the right index with my left hand and held the left index finger pointing up.

"Henge."

Poof.

...oh god.

As the smoke cleared quickly, I found myself staring at pale white hands too small for me.

I chuckled as the henge dispelled.

I laughed as I curled up again.

I sobbed holding my knees to my chest.

When I was done accepting this new life of mine in a body, i unfurled and looked at the screen floating in front of me in what I could only call a respectable distance. It was not too far or too close to me.

I lifted a finger and pressed on the choose option for race.

**RACE:**

**Human Races**  
**Human**  
**Elf**  
**Dwarf**

**Demihuman Races**  
**Fairy**  
**Beastman**  
**Lesser Angel**  
**Lesser Devil**  
**Centaur**  
**Giant**  
**Goblin**  
**Orc**  
**Troll**

**Heteromorph Races**  
**Demon**  
**Devil**  
**Doppelganger**  
**Dragon**  
**Elementals**  
**Fulborg**  
**Golem**  
**Insect**  
**Lycanthrope**  
**Murloc**  
**Myconid**  
**Naga**  
**Skeleton**  
**Slime**  
**Tauren**  
**Treant**  
**Vampire**

I stared at all of the options and moaned.

A fantasy rpg with more options than not for me to become a monster. Just great.

… what are the benefits?

I pressed each of the race categories and read through the description.

Human Races were physically the weakest with the least amount of drawbacks and advantages, Heteromorphs were all stronger than base human with big advantages and disadvantages, and Demihumans were somewhere in the middle.

But where was I? If I was in an ordinary world, then I didn't want to deal with being not human.

It was at this moment that I saw a human shaped light fly across the sky.

I wet my tongue loudly for a bit as my own thoughts were answered almost immediately by the world

"Power, it is," I said as I hovered over the Hetermorphs. I wanted something that was durable and survivor.

I began to look through each of the race options and how different they were. Some of them were classic like the vampire. The morlocks had an intelligence debuff, which wasn't great. I didn't want to become a skeleton either.

Slime, on the other hand, had a 3% physical damage reduction per racial level in Slime, however damage was calculated, and the ability to digest any organic matter. The downside was "Hunger +400%" and "Charisma Gain x.25." It was basically a gluttonous outcast.

The other option was Demon, which had a lot of subraces for me to mix and match, which gave me room to adapt and adjust over time. Problem with Demons was its "Innate Vile Nature." This debuff caused me to choose from four sins: Pride, Lust, Sadism, and Wrath.

Pride forced me to dominate others and it wasn't just "ha ha I am better than you"; it was closer to "grovel before me, slave, lest I kill you."

Lust… if I couldn't get it willingly, then I would take it forcibly. And I needed it everyday.

Sadism forced me to hurt others emotionally, mentally, physically, or a combination of all previous three.

Wrath didn't have an immediate effect. But once I became angry, I would destroy anything between me and my target.

If the sin wasn't fulfilled each day, then I would be subjected to stacking debuff that takes twice as much sinful indulgence to remove.

The rest were okay or too unfamiliar for me. After looking over everything, I sighed as I made my choice.

I felt my body change shape. I felt something protrude out from my temples and turn forward. I raised my hands up shakily and I felt it.

Horns.

I chose to be a demon.

As for my sin…?

Out of all four of them, i thought that lust was the least destructive. At least, I can pay for services, right?

Sighing, I moved onto Job classes.

**JOB CLASSES**  
**(Classes allowed by user race)**  
**Archer**  
**Alchemist**  
**Blacksmith**  
**Cleric**  
**Craftsmen**  
**Druid**  
**Fighter**  
**Hunter**  
**Monk**  
**Shaman**  
**Thief**  
**Warlock**  
**Warrior**  
**Wizard**

'I could be a cleric?' I snorted even as I dismissed the option. It didn't take me long to choose Thief. I was a nobody with no ID of any kind in a foreign land that might not even be America.

The status page finally closed and I warily stood up after hours of crouching, hugging, sobbing, and sitting.

I bent my back backward and hummed approvingly when my back crackled and popped.

… time to get a bearing of where I was.

"Henge," I muttered and the horns disappeared from my head. I still felt it but I doubted anyone could see it now.

I looked over the edge of the building and just jumped down into an empty alley. I landed in a crouch after falling freely from a four story building.

I stood up wobbly, a little shocked that I could do something that.

"It must be part of the Naruto ninjutsu thing in my head," I muttered to myself before walking out of the alley and into the street. Dressed in only a t-shirt and a pair of nylon shorts, I strolled into this unfamiliar city.

-VB-

It didn't take long for me to find a newspaper stand locked up and closed but I saw the front half of the newspaper bundle that was displayed.

And my jaw dropped as I read the date.

"January 10th, 2009…?!" I hissed quietly to myself with wide eyes and sagging shoulders.

I didn't just get powers, I traveled back in time! It kind of explained why I had a younger body. This size fit just how tall and small I was when I was sixteen! I am certainly shorter than how tall I was in 2019, but I was still a good five feet nine inches.

I shook my head just a little as I snapped out of my torpor and hurriedly moved on.

At least, now I knew that I was in a English writing and speaking city and the name of the newspaper…

I never heard of "Brockton." Is it in Britain or Australia? The dreary weather certainly made Britain a likier candidate than Australia.

Moving about, I noticed how dirty the city was. The city wasn't like New York City or Los Angeles in population (otherwise, I would be surrounded by people enjoying the night life right now). Did the people just not care? I mean, everyone cared about how clean their surroundings were, otherwise, there wouldn't be a cleaning industry.

I pushed that thought aside as I moved deeper into the city towards the place that was cleaner. It was night time and people were about, but not around here where I was walking.

"Yo~!"

I stopped and turned around. Behind me were nine men and women, all holding some kind of a weapon.

"Ah shucks," I muttered to myself. "Am I standing in your gang's turf?"

The lead man grinned maliciously. "You know it," he said as he extended his free hand. "Give us everything you have and I might not beat the shit out of you."

I looked at them before sighing.

Naruto ninjutsus were great, but I was currently limited in what I could do with them. I knew - like I knew what 1 + 1 was - that I only had three ninjutsu mastered: henge (transformation), bushin (clone), and kawarimi (replacement). I couldn't fight them.

Or could I?

I gulped, not a little scared but determined not to be a bug.

I _mastered _these techniques, whether I did or they were downloaded. I knew what I had to do, I knew how to time these techniques, and I certainly could do some tricky shit with them.

Instead of pulling out my non-existent wallet, I slid into a stance and gestured for him to come.

The white trash spat on the ground and rushed me with his crowbar.

My heart pounded in my ears as the man swung his crowbar no more than three yards from me, obviously expecting his momentum to carry through to reach me.

And then I switched myself with one of his goons, the one behind them all.

There was a konk and a slump.

For a second, the gangsters cheered before the leader gasped. "Bob?!"

I grimaced as I tried to think of what else I could do… and then I saw knowledge and wisdom to know how to use curses.

… The fuck?

Nasuverse?

'Think later,' I thought to myself as I pointed my finger gun-style towards the gangster in front of me. "Gandr."

Gandr was a curse that deteriorated a person's health on the spot, though its effect corresponded to just how much mana I put into it. In Nasuverse, specifically the Fate Stay/Night, Tohsaka Rin, one of the protagonists, was able to put enough energy into her Gandr Shots to pierce through unarmored bodies easily.

A purplish black energy bullet shot out and struck the back of the neck of the unfortunate target. The gangster took the hit and just collapsed on the spot, vomiting his last meal out. The sound of retching and the spilling of liquid on the ground caused the rest of turn, and they saw me behind them.

"CAPE!" someone shouted.

That was an odd way to call a superperson.

"Gandr!" I hissed again, and another shot hissed through the air, striking a suddenly scared gangster. She too went down vomiting.

Then one of them pulled out a gun.

'Kawarimi!' I mentally chanted and poof.

BANG

Another gangster, their leader, took the shot instead of me, while I was now to their back again.

"Michael!"

With the way these guys shouted each other's names, it was like they were completely new to being fucked up by a super.

I mean, I just saw a person flying overhead just a few hours ago.

I struck at the back of the head of the nearest gangster, and I knew how to do more damage.

'[Sinister Strike]!'

Suddenly, my fist slammed into the back of his head with far more force than I put into it, and the gangster flew forward like a ragdoll, slamming into another gangster.

Four of them were now incapacitated, leaving me with five, including the one with the gun.

I pointed the finger at the guy with the gun and fired another Gandr. He … ducked.

Smart.

He fired but missed.

I fired as the other gangsters tried to rush me.

When one of the rushing gangsters struck at me, I switched places with the gunner.

Pow!

I turned around to look at the gunner, who went down from a fist to his face. I immediately knelt down, grabbed a handful of trash, and kawarimi'ed them with the gun.

I never used a gun before.

Panting from exertion of some kind, I pulled the gun up.

The gangsters immediately stopped.

"Fucking leave," I growled.

"The Empire's not going to forget you," one of them grumbled as they left me, carrying their fallen on their backs, including their dead.

Not my fault they decided to use a gun.

Speaking of the gun…

I relaxed and stared down at the gun in my hand.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" I asked myself.

I quickly went through my options… and realized that my "Gamer" ability had an inventory system.

"Inventory?" I tried calling for it.

Zhing.

And wala, it appeared. It was a box-stacking system like most RPGs and Minecraft. I hesitantly pushed the gun into the nearly transparent screen, and it just disappeared.

And there was a Glock(1) on the screen.

"Nice."

I willed the Inventory screen to close, and it did. Then I quickly moved out of the street, lest there were eyes following me should I take the big roads down. Thinking about what might happen if I appeared in public with my face, I quickly henged into an Asian.

**-VB-**

"You work for us now!"

I stared dispassionately at the gang of Asians that demanded that I work for this gang called ABB. They thought that I was an Asian American who didn't know shit about "my" ancestry, so I was being forced to work for them to "learn" about "my" ancestry.

Unlike my encounter with the "Empire" gangsters, there were less of these guys and none of them looked like they had guns.

I raised my hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not Asian."

Poof.

My henge disappeared.

The trio of Asian gangsters stared at me.

The three screamed that word again.

Cape.

I ran, not wanting trouble.

**-VB-**

Then I ran into homeless drug dealers.

**-VB-**

The superhero cops wanted me in prison.

**-VB-**

When I tried to skip town, I got zapped until I came back in.

**-VB-**

Curled up with my legs up against my chest, face in my knees, and my arms around my legs, I remained quiet. Thanks to kawarimi technique, I was able to teleport away after being combat-engaged by the superhero police, of all things.

"I want to go home," I whimpered pathetically as I woke up.

I lifted my face slowly, and I saw the dawn sun shining like a jewel.

It was beautiful.

But I was hungry, homeless, and … horny.

God, my choice could have been better. So much better. Why didn't I just stay a familiar human? Why not even elf or even dwarf?

I'm a goddamn demon, and I was the dumb fucker who chose this.

I sniffled as the cool morning breeze began to move and caress my tear-stricken face. The combination of warm light and the cool breeze touching my face reminded me of my older sister, whose skin was always a bit too cold for my liking but always made me warm with how she took care of me.

'Go and fucking do something, you dipshit,' she'd say.

"I guess I'll have to find my own place," I muttered as I stood up.

First, I needed to take care of my hunger.

The simplest solution was often the easiest. I was a Thief, and I could always change my appearance.

"Henge," I said, changing my appearance to that of an average nondescript _woman_. "Let's take a stroll down the busiest place in this city."

I jumped down from the rooftop, and made my way to the place.

After walking for about an hour (and pickpocketing twenty-six dollars), I arrived at the busiest place. There were … a lot of tourists.

"Huh," I muttered to myself as I walked past the guards stationed at the entrance of the street. The street was called "Boardwalk," like it was an imitation of Broadwalk and whatnot. I walked around, pickpocketing every other person as to not arouse suspicion.

By the time I was at the other end of the street, I had three-hundred forty-eight dollars.

I stared at the money in my Inventory that only I could see.

"That's a lot of money," I mumbled to myself as I pulled out a single twenty from my Inventory into my pocket. I walked out of the Boardwalk to the adjacent streets. There were some restaurants but there were none that I wanted to enter.

But then I saw a street cart. The young woman operating the cart looked a little harried. She had dark circles underneath her eyes and she looked tired. Something pushed me towards her from within me, and I walked. I was hungry anyway, and a hot dog stand she seemingly operated

"Hello, welcome to Mimi's Hot Dog stand! How can I help you?" she asked faux cheerfully.

"One hot dog, please," I said. "So what's your story?" I asked as I noticed that she was shorter than me.

She fumbled with the hot dog she was pulling out when I randomly tossed her that question.

"H-Huh?" she uttered as she looked at me with wide eyes.

"What's going on with you? You look down," I replied.

She looked at me for a few seconds before smiling sadly. "A personal business, I'm afraid," she said sadly.

I stared at her for a second before she handed me the hot dog. I shrugged as I took the hot dog. "If you say so. How much is it?"

"Three dollars."

"With tax?"

"Yes."

"Hmm," I uttered as I handed her a twenty. She punched a few buttons on the cash register. As she pulled out my change, I noticed that the register was pretty empty.

"You run this cart by yourself?" I asked her.

She looked up, a flicker of dread passing by her face, before she nodded while handing me my change. "I do, but I don't think I can operate it anymore."

"Why not?" I pocketed the change.

"... Because I'm not making enough to rent the cart again tomorrow."

So that's why she was so down. It was the end of the line for her business.

"Sucks," I muttered. 'But how desperate are you?' I asked myself. I looked over her she kept staring down at her cash register. She wasn't beautiful but neither was ugly or plain. She leaned on the side of cute…

I took a deep breath in as I put mustard, ketchup, and relish on my hot dog.

My eyes continued to roam almost against my will.

Ginger haired, brown eyes, and rounded face.

Maybe five and six or seven inches tall and on the thin side with not an insignificant weight to her breasts. With the way her apron was tied in the front and not the back, it gave me a good estimation of her figure. Except her hands were thinner than what her figure suggested. Maybe she wasn't eating properly?

Then I heard it.

Growl.

She blushed and tried to cover her stomach.

I did my best to hide my grin.

'Can I look at her status like I can see mine?' I thought to myself while looking around my "Character Page." I found no such available option.

I quickly ate the hot dog, gave her a nod of thanks, and disappeared.

Disappeared, yes, from her point of view. I kept my eyes on her, though. If my predictions and guesses coincided perfectly, then I might have a woman for my bed tonight and I wasn't about to let her disappear on me.

But no one woman who just throw her body for a few hundreds that I had. No, I needed far more to sweeten the initial deal.

Time to go pickpocketing~.

**-VB-**

I returned nine hours later, and she was still there. Working her cute ass off, she was nowhere near the full sale capacity. Of the fifty or so hot dogs that she had to begin with this morning, she still had thirty.

Assuming each hot dog nets her $1 profit after however many she needed to sell to pay for the rent of the cart, there was no way she made enough to even pay off the cart's rent. Even if I was generous with the calculation and said $2 profit per hot dog, she probably still didn't make enough to feed herself.

I watched as she dragged the cart across the entire rich side of the town to the warehouse district closer to the waters. There, she entered one of the warehouses.

A man walked out and they talked.

I was right above them on the roof of the warehouse.

"Ms. Volya," the chubby yet firm looking man said. "You're late as usual."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Peters," she said as she reached into her apron pocket as the man took the handles of the cart and brought it inside. After a while, he came back out of the warehouse. "I…. I only have this much."

And then she handed him what was more or less the entirety of what she made today.

He took the money and sighed.

"Ms. Volya, this is the third time I've let you rent one of my company's carts along with the other merchandises and yet you've made less than half of what you were supposed to."

"I'm sorry."

The man shook his head. "No, I am sorry. I have been paying out of my own pockets to make up for your lack of profits in the hopes that you would get better, but you have not. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask you to not come back tomorrow."

She trembled on the spot as the "Mr. Peters" turned around left her there, shivering in the dark.

Ah, so she wasn't just renting the cart. All of the products must be part of the rental. Maybe the company she borrowed from had a set quota for sales or something.

I needed to wait just a bit more.

She left the warehouse district, walking towards the rundown suburban district.

And just when she crossed in the suburban district, I appeared in front of her from an alley, popping out just a little.

"Sup."

She jumped back with wide eyes, and then she recognized me.

"You."

"... You look worse than you did this morning."

She scowled, dropping her customer service face. "Please leave me alone," she said as she began to turn around.

I wasn't about to let her go that easily. "You're hungry, aren't you?"

She froze mid-turn and looked to me.

"Well, you see," I drawled. "I'm in need of a service." Saying this, I lifted my newly acquired - if a little used and plain - jacket, revealing an inner pocket filled with twenty dollar bills. Her eyes widened as her eyes caught the sight of the money. "I think you know what I want."

She glared at me, but the desperation was clear with how she was shifting her eyes towards the money constantly.

"D… do you even know what you're asking?" she asked, shaking.

"Of course, I do. It's why I said I wanted service and I am offering."

In my pockets right now, five hundred dollars sat. Lesser women have accepted similar offers for far less. I had to give her some credit for not accepting it immediately. "Well?" I asked as I leaned forward, pushing into her personal space.

She didn't answer, biting her lips and looking down with tearful eyes.

Again, her stomach growled.

"Fine…!" she hissed.

Grinning, I pulled my jacket close. "Then let's find a place to … ah, consummate our agreement."

We led her to a motel I already scouted and rented a room, led her to my room, and closed the door.

Upon closing the door, I slid a paper on the floor of the room to the corner. This caused a near invisible throng of energy to rush out from where I was as the last paper I just put into place sealed this room from the outside world in a Bounded Field, one of the basic knowledge I got from Nasuverse.

This Bounded Field did two things: it hypnotized people from remembering this room and cut off sound.

In essence, I stole this room from its owners, who would forget that this room existed.

Once the door closed and the Bounded Field was set, I led her towards the bed.

She resisted a bit but then I grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her down.

"Wait, wait, wait-!" she began uncertainly.

Unfortunately, I no longer had control over my [Lust].

I grabbed bag and rolled up apron, and tossed them aside, hearing them bounce on the floor. Then I grabbed her legs and pulled them apart.

She was mewling, a little afraid by my sudden moves and her inexperience.

But she made a deal with a Demon. I didn't plan on going easy or slow.

I grabbed her pants and slid them off with my superior strength despite her resistance. She tried to take some measure of control with her legs, but they were already apart and I had them on each of my side.

Not wanting to stick my dick in a dry pussy, I slid my hand to her crotch. Her screams cut off into whimpers as my fingers found her entrance and slid in. She gripped the side of the bed with her hands, trying to come to terms.

In that instance, I grabbed her wrists with my free hand and pinned them above her.

"Wait, y-you're going too fast!" she cried as her eyes teared up.

"But you agreed, and there's no going back!" I said as I sped up my fingering.

She bucked under my fingers even as she cried. Her body couldn't deny the need, and she was lubricating herself handily. As my thumb rubbed her clit and my fingers pressed up as I pumped her, I felt her walls start to contract. It was slow at first but as I sped up, it too became faster.

Then she tightened around my finger while screaming.

Just like that, her resistance broke.

She laid there, whimpering even as her body shuddered and I felt her vagina wet my fingers even more.

I pulled my finger out of her, and pulled my boxer and shorts down.

My swollen and throbbing dick landed on her lower stomach, extending almost to her belly button.

Without even waiting for her to respond, I grabbed my dick, lined myself up with her pussy and slid in.

I pushed my hips slowly.

For a second, I felt horrible for taking this girl the way I had, but my horror was quickly shattered and pushed aside by something far more primal and another just outright evil.

I moaned, almost ejaculating on the spot as I realized how tight her pussy was around my dick. Another part of me reveled in being the one to violate her like this. This cute ginger writhed underneath me.

As I slid the full length of my dick inside of her, she began to whimper again.

"T-This is happening...! I'm dreaming, I have to be dreaming…!" she whimpered to herself even as her eyes widened the deeper I pushed into her.

"No dream, sweetie," I coo'ed. "Just sex."

I reached the end of her vagina… but I still had more. I pushed forward, stretching her walls and bending them to my length.

"You're going to be worth everything I paid you for," I growled as I pulled out and slammed into her mercilessly.

She cried as I began to pump her, stretching her with each deep pounding. Her boobs jiggled as I pumped her, and I felt an urge. So I followed it. My free hand that I have been using to keep her leg down moved up and grabbed the bottom hem of her shirt and pulled them up and over her boobs.

Her boobs, covered by only her bra now, continued to jiggle as my shaft slid in and out of her, feeling all of the grooves of her pussy with the rim of my dick's head. I moaned even as I grabbed her bra and pulled it down, snapping it in half by accident with how hard I pulled it off.

No big loss.

To my surprise, her boob almost spilled out, having been confined by a bra two sizes smaller.

Because what I was seeing?

It wasn't the B-cup I thought they were but a D-cup! And they weren't just any old D-cup; they firm, round, and soft!

Spilled out as they were, they continued to jiggle with each thrust I made. I grabbed her left boob and squeezed, eliciting another cry from her.

I picked up my speed, slapping her ass loudly as I rammed my full length into her.

She finally stopped whimpering and squealed as she curled inward, her entire body shuddering as her vagina spasmed around me.

Taken surprise by the sudden iron grip I found myself in, I slammed into her and cummed.

Her eyes shot open. "No, no! I'm going to be pregnant! Pull it out! Pull it out!" she begged tearfully. But the thought of impregnating only made me harder and hold myself in position in glee.

My dick throbbed as I ejaculated once, twice, and thrice into her. I felt my semen dribble out of the tip of my cock in pleasurable bursts, and my whole relaxed as I felt the need that I have been craving evaporate like a fast forwarded video of dry ice.

Oddly enough, my dick was still hard.

I was about to pull out and just leave after breaking the Bounded Field when I got this message.

[Demon's Satisfaction x1]

I clicked it with my free hand, and my eyes widened.

[Demon's Satisfaction

Taking part in a demon's sin multiple times mitigates the future needs, each successful indulgence allowing for a whole day's need to be satisfied.

Current Stack: 1]

I closed the screens and looked down at the girl. Having let go of her wrists, she opted not to resist but to cover her face with her arms and whimpering pathetically.

It sucked for her, but she was the one to agree to this without putting down how many times I could fuck her.

Without even talking, I grabbed her waist with both of my hands and pumped her again.

She pulled her arms apart to look at me in shock.

I just took it as her stupidity and lashed out with both of my hands, grabbed her wrists, and pinned them to the side.

"No, you already did it! Let me go!" she shouted, tearing up. "Please let me go!" she mewled as her boobs jiggled and her hips rocked back.

"Nope, you're mine tonight," I laughed as I pounded into her. I pushed in, pulling her hips up my lands and began to mate-press into her. I pushed my chest against her chest, and placed my head at the nape of her neck.

From that point on, she didn't say anything and just mewled to the rhythm of my pounding.

I pumped her vagina, and after a while, came again.

Her sobs died down as I began our third round.

By the fourth round, where I had flipped her around and pounded into her doggy style, she'd stop whimpering completely, just taking it.

The fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth…

Holy shit, why does my dick not turn flaccid? I'm scared now!

By the time I decided to end it, I was a little sleek with sweat. I peeked at her face and blinked upon seeing her unconscious. Did she pass out? Unlike myself, she was covered in far more than just sweat; I had ejaculated three rounds outside of her pussy, and they'd painted a picture on her back.

I grunted, feeling the effects of my exertion, and stood up to enter the shower. On the short distance between the bed and the bathroom, I quickly checked my DE stack count and saw that it was 9.

Good. I mean, I did enjoy it a lot, and that was perhaps the second best sex of my life, but knowing that I don't have to force myself to have sex, even when I felt a strong urge for it, felt good in my mind. Satisfied, I looked over my shoulder and stopped walking. Seeing the girl there, laying on her stomach and so defenseless…

Almost like I was being controlled, I turned around and returned to bed. I lifted her hips up and pushed myself in. Moaning in pleasure, I spent the night pleasuring myself away with her pussy.

**-VB-**

Oddly enough, I didn't need to sleep or eat. Was it because of my new Demon physiology, Gamer affecting me, or other reasons? So when morning came around and my partner (Ms. Volya) finally woke up, I had not only gone over the minute details available for everything in my head, which wasn't limited to Ninjutsu, Thaumaturgy, and weird Gamer, but I had planned out what I wanted to do.

Ms. Volya was part of my plan. She was … a nice lay. I wanted to keep her around.

As she blearily woke up and sat up, her first reaction was to look at herself. She was clean and without any external appearance of our last night activities.

"Yo."

She flinched. In the following seconds, she quickly bunched up the bedsheet and covered herself as she looked up to meet my eyes. There was a little bit of fear in her eyes.

"I really enjoyed our night together, Ms. Volya," I said smoothly. "So I thought I should at least see you off with your payment."

I held up an envelope, which was easy enough to buy when I went around early morning. Within it was three hundred dollars; we never agreed on the amount, only to be paid. I wasn't going to rip her off, but neither was I going to be generous. These little tidbits made me realize that Ms. Volya was quite young. Not young enough to be in high school, because she wouldn't be attempting to continue a business if she was. I also rummaged through her purse after cleaning her, and found out that her name was "Rebecca Soto-Volya," an 21 year old, and that she had not a single picture of herself, her loved ones, or anyone in general. The only thing she had were cards about homeless centers and relief centers. Her willingness to steep into prostitution after failing her business venture, her age, and her underweight appearance made me realize what she was.

A young woman, probably an orphan or neglected, trying to find her own place in the world. Scared, lonely, desperate, and hungry. A perfect target for those who would want to only take and never give. She was lucky to meet me instead of, let's say, those ABB or Empire thugs.

"Y-you…" she mumbled. It wasn't long before her eyes spotted the envelope, though, and they followed it like a cat would follow a catnip.

"But then I thought about you, Ms. Rebecca Soto-Volya."

She snapped out of her daze. "You looked through my things?!"

I held my hands up in peace. "Don't worry. You didn't have anything worth taking."

She clutched her bedsheet even tighter.

"After thinking about your situation that I have seen so far, I realized that you probably don't have anywhere to go. No one's waiting for you, right?"

She looked away, curling up.

"The smell of your clothes was distinct. You know what I mean."

She gulped but still refused to meet my eyes.

"So I have a proposition for you-" I wanted to snort. A homeless, regardless of how much I had, was extending a hand to another probably-homeless. "- I want you to stay with me and be my woman."

She looked up.

Unlike last time where surprise and hunger had been the primary force behind her actions, there was anger in her eyes now.

"Y-You…!" she hissed as tears trickled down the side of her head. "You fuck me, you c-cum inside of me, and you want me ... to be your woman…?!"

I laughed.

Then I smiled. "Don't misunderstand. I could just as well take you whenever and however I want," I replied. With that, I crossed my fingers and two clones poofed into existence.

Then the clones changed appearance when I henged and altered all three faces facing her.

Her eyes widened.

"You never saw my real face to begin with."

Her face paled.

"Cape."

"Bingo~"

Yesterday night while I had been going through all of the tidbits of information I had available to me, I also nicked half of the magazines in the lobby of the motel and read through them too, including a pamphlet made by "Parahuman Response Team National, distributed by PRT ENE" which described in detail what to look for in capes and how to report them to the authorities.

Cape was the colloquial term for the fancier - if a little incorrect - term, parahuman.

I also found out that my set of abilities? The sheer diversity and potential I had at my disposal?

Unheard of.

I just had to hide until I leveled enough of my Gamer's progression system, experimented enough Thaumaturgy to become a magus, or trained until I was a Chunin or Jounin level fighter using Ninjutsu. There were other powers and knowledge, but the aforementioned three were my best bet at survival.

I dispelled the clones.

I leaned forward.

"I like you, Rebecca. I want you. If you agree to become mine, then I will protect you, feed you, shelter you, and - if you want - give you the funds and time necessary to educate yourself."

Here, I reached into my jacket and pulled out a white letter paper with the contract written as I had just described. On the bottom, I already signed it. "In exchange, all of you become mine."

And of course, I cheated a little. On the back of the paper, I had written down using invisible ink (also sold at numerous 24/7 stores for some odd reason and was ultimately responsible for me thinking of such a plan to use it) numerous other benefits she would be forced to give me.

In total, this contract, this Geis I intended to get her to sign, was no better than an indefinite indentured servant contract that included sexual services.

The only thing I could not do was cause her death, harm her for non-practical reasons, and sell the contract by direct or indirect means.

What the contract would do, however, was kill her by burning her inside out if she succeeded in running away or succeeded in telling my enemies (ie anyone not me) about myself.

Hell, she couldn't even attempt suicide!

I was very much a demon, which was better than a devil in my honest-to-God opinion.

Her stomach growled.

I loved her stomach. It just spoke at the most opportune moments.

Fat tears slid down her face. I saw her mind go into overdrive, weighing the pros and cons. She didn't know me yet here I was offering her everything she had been lacking.

I held up both of the options patiently, and eventually she came around.

The desperate, hungry, tired, hurt, and lonely Rebecca Soto-Volya… chose to be my slave.

Excellent.

I tossed the envelope aside and walked up to her bedside with the table that I had been sitting on in tow. I set the table down and set the contract down with a pen.

She looked at me fearfully before looking down at the paper.

"Oh!" I said cheerfully, because I was happy things were going my way. "If you don't sign the contract, then that's alright too. I won't have anyone say that I forced someone into signing a contract."

If anything, my assurances only scared her more.

With shaky hands and puffy eyes, Rebecca grabbed the pen and signed.

Immediately, the paper curled up and burst into red fire, causing Rebecca to scream as she backed away.

The fire floated up and split into two.

One came to me and marked my pinky, burning a tiny sigil there.

It was a f

The other raced to Rebecca and marked her neck. She screamed as the smell of cooked meat filled the room, and by the end of it, she was left panting and shivering on the bed with black chain tattoo on her neck with my sigil burnt into her jugular notch.

"The details of the contract should be in your head now," I said as I reached into my Inventory and pulled out a plate filled with a fruit cup, a bowl of cereal, a cup of hot tea, utensils, and another envelope, this one containing one hundred dollars. "For now, allow me to fulfill my part of the deal." I set the plate down on the table, and her head snapped up.

She looked at me.

I gestured for her to go ahead. "Just eat slowly so you don't choke yourself. I would be so disappointed if my first servant died to choking of all things."

**-VB-**

After she ate her breakfast, I left her with some instructions regarding what she was to do and gave her a copy of the key to this room. Thanks to my Bounded Field, everyone would ignore it and its occupants, and so she would be able to come and go without issue.

My instructions for her were simple: enjoy yourself but come back "home" by 6 p.m.

She was too out of it to go out, though, but I did.

I needed information on my enemies: the homeless brigade, white trash legion, and the Asian division.

To the library!

After that, the hardware store because I needed some tools for the ideas bouncing in my head!


	2. Chapter 2

**2008, January 11th**

I sat in the library I had seen yesterday, looking through a forum website called ParaHuman Online. The website was the first thing that came up on my search, and for a good reason. The website may as well be the wikipedia for all things parahuman and cape.

One of the things I noticed yesterday when I was pickpocketing people was how little in the ways of smartphone there were. I knew that Apple's first smartphone was released before 2008, but I saw none of that in this Earth.

I found out today why such was the case when I accessed the internet in the library.

The internet here was … odd. Google wasn't as big, Bing was bigger but not as big as Google, and Yahoo still held strong in America. Bush never got his presidency (neither did Al Gore). There were a plethora of other differences, but the main ones I was worried about was the laws surrounding parahumans (as well as the local heroes and villains). The internet was only too happy to tell me everything I needed to know.

God bless Lord Internet.

NEPEA-5 prevented large cape corporations.

Azn Bad Boyz were superpower slavers.

Empire Eighty-Eight were Neo-Nazis with superpowers.

Archer's Bridge Merchants were superpowered drug-addled homeless.

New Wave was retired soccer mom team with new additions lately.

Protectorate ENE was considered to have one of the worst power combinations.

Wards ENE had a cute mascot, but seemed like 9they needed a lot of training (and actual policing).

Faultline's Crew were mercenaries that operated out of the city, not within it.

Coil was considered to be a non-entity.

From this I gathered the following:

I could dismiss Coil and Faultline's Group. Neither of them were threats to me right now, especially since Coil was known to stick to his little area just north of the northeast exit of Boardwalk.

ABB was a low priority enemy; they tended to stick to their territory in the Docks area of this Brockton Bay city. The Merchants were similar in that while they did not hold official territory, they tended to avoid fights with big capes unless one of their safehouses were raided by any other major faction. Then they would retaliate. They were, however, a public nuisance.

The Protectorate of East-North-East (weird designation) was a moderate threat. From what I have read throughout this morning, they tended to react rather than proactively eliminate targets. From the few doctrines I have read, it was mediocre philosophy; the core of the Protectorate's existence was not a policing force but a federal agency recruiting parahuman capes for future Endbringer battles, something to touch on later. They made themselves to the public

The Parahuman Response Team, the Protectorate's federal and non-parahuman counterpart, was the federal policing force and they were "allowed" to call upon the reserves of the Protectorate in their policing. Their actual policies - not their public mottos or mission statements - read like someone was trying to please a vocal minority when the agencies were being made.

Unfortunately, they weren't the biggest threat to me.

That title belonged solely to Empire Eighty-Eight, the superpowered Neo-Nazi.

God. Nazi's in America? I mean, yeah, idiots have always existed in the rural backwaters, but for such an organization to be allowed to exist?

America really was in the shitter, wasn't it?

Anyway, E88 held large swathes of territory and followers, extremists, moderates, and fringers alike. They controlled everything west of Docks South and the Commercial District.

Which means they more or less controlled all of the northern Brockton-Boston suburban, which was a thing.

So what did I want?

Well, I wanted to remove the threats to myself and my way of life.

So I had to crush the E88 or scatter them at the least, but I didn't know how to do that.

… can Lord Internet show me military doctrine for shattering urban gangsters?

…

…

Lord Internet apparently can.

Now which ones are viable for my situation…?

* * *

I hummed happily as I wrapped up my research, gathered my notes into my Inventory when no one was looking, and headed home.

Walking back towards the motel, I couldn't help but think about my situation. I lacked a significant memory about myself before arriving in this city, yet I possessed numerous powers that I had previously considered to be fictional and used them with a proficiency that I could have never developed when I got them and the first time I used them.

The way I acted instantly to change myself between those Empire gangsters was risky. I didn't even know it would work. The way I naturally slid into a fighting stance that I was unfamiliar with also scared me.

It was also the way my Gamer power worked on me; I chose Thief, and I knew how to pickpocket the very next moment, a skill I put to use rather heavily for myself the very day I gained it.

And then there was Thaumaturgy, the basis for the implementation of magecraft where I recreate scientifically possible acts not through laws of physics but through od and mana. I just knew how to perform curses and rituals.

And what did I do with all of these new skills? In my past life, I might have gone out and become a hero. I probably would have too if I kept most of my memory. What little memory I still had told me of a person who gave away his own lunch money to a homeless man. I was a man who knowingly went to nations and territories hostile to me to spread the word of God.

But I don't remember myself anymore beyond a few recollections of myself retelling what my past me had been through. I don't remember the words of God, though I knew who he was.

No, I was someone who willingly chose to be a Demon when I could've stayed a human. I let my fear drive me towards a decision I knew was less than right.

Because as I walk down the streets and look around, I saw how I could take advantage of people, how I could kill them, and so many ways I could derive pleasure from such acts.

The Demon in me was no longer just a phrase but the literal truth.

That's not to say that I was completely evil. No, even more than deriving pleasure was my selfishness. I realized that I was starting to care for myself only, and I recognized this because my thought process from yesterday and my thought process today was vastly different. Yesterday, I was thinking about how to survive and just get by.

When I looked through the list of my future enemies today, I thought about conquest.

I thought about the shattering of ideologies, I thought of sundering kingdoms, and I reveled in those thoughts.

I scared myself.

"I'm home," I said as I opened the door to my current hideout, the Bounded Field-hidden motel room.

I then stopped after closing the door because there was someone else in the room other than Rebecca who was standing in the middle of the room. Hiding behind her legs was a small kid with the same ginger hair as Rebecca but with black eyes instead of Rebecca's brown.

"A-Ah," she spoke up. "Mister…" she trailed off.

I blinked when she didn't say my name. Then I realized I hadn't even told her.

"Alan Marris, Rebecca," I said before putting down my backpack on the table by the door. Then I walked up to her and knelt down to meet the kid. "Who's he?"

"My s-son, Steven."

I looked up. "You're married?" I already knew she wasn't. While the lack of a wedding ring was one thing, I actually listened to her conversation with two customers long after I disappeared from her sight, which included a talk about how cute she was and why she wasn't married yet.

"... No."

One part of the Geis she accepted was for her to always speak the truth when asked unless speaking sensitive information in the presence of another, in which case she was to hold her tongue until we were in private. This was not something I considered sensitive, but was it for her?

"I see why you were willing to accept the contract then," I said as I met the kid's eyes. "How old are you?" I asked him.

The button-nosed kid stared at me warily, not sure how to respond to me. Rebecca pushed his back just enough to give him the go-ahead. "F-Four," he stuttered out while pushing his baby fat cheeks into his mom's leg.

Cute.

"Do you mind if I talked to you outside, Rebecca?" I asked.

She nodded hesitantly as I stood up and left the room. After a minute, she followed me out.

"So are you really not married?" I asked her.

She nodded. "My ex left me when he found out that I was … pregnant with Steven."

"Douche, huh?"

She smiled sadly.

"But how do you intend to keep him around here? I doubt you want him to see what I do to you."

She paled. "I couldn't keep him where he was before."

"Hmm," I muttered to myself. It just meant that I was going to move up my schedule. I looked around to see if there was anyone watching us. The coast was clear. "Alright, I'll go out to find some other place. Stay here until I come back, alright?" I said as I reached into my Inventory and pulled out five bills of twenty. She took the bill and bowed a little before quickly heading back in.

I sighed as I stood outside, scratching the back of my head.

Maybe I was a little too hasty in forcing another into my service so early on.

Whatever. What's done was done, and I don't plan on abandoning what was mine, ever.

It just meant that I couldn't spend more time training my powers now, replacing its time slot with what I intended to do now: find a better hideout.

I was right now south of Boardwalk, so I turned towards the east.

The Coast, as the place was colloquially designated, was a place east of the Downtown that stretched around the coast as well as including the areas of the city that was near it. It was not as popular or rich as the Downtown and the Commercial District but it wasn't as dangerous as the Docks or the E88-controlled western suburbs.

If there was any abandoned building there, then it would be perfect for my purpose.

I headed to the nearest bus stop, and after catching a bus and taking a thirty minute to the inland Coast, I spent two hours exploring. To my glee, there were indeed abandoned buildings.

From what I could gather earlier in the library, the economic downturn the world was suffering because of these kaijus called "Endbringers" had impacted Brockton Bay as well, who had relied on being a shipping port to the northern New England area. With the shipping business dried up, the place that had been hit the hardest had been the Coast. Most of its denizens had relied on business brought as a side effect of the shipping industry, and when said business dwindled, they too had withered.

Many people had moved out and buildings had been outright abandoned because no one wanted to invest in a clearly unprofitable area of the city. The actual Coast, not the inland, was doing okay because tourists liked to use the beaches during the summer, and motels and hotels could provide the tourists their shelters.

The inland Coast, though?

"Oh my lord," I said to myself as I stared up at a rundown building deep into the city. From the broken signs still hanging on, it used to be a commercial building with multiple shops and businesses, including dentistry, clothing shop, and massage parlor.

All of the businesses were gone as were the businesses in the surrounding buildings. I quickly ran into the building, watching out for anyone who might be watching me. I explored each of the three floors and found only dust and broken furniture.

In essence?

"Perfect."

I wasted no time in setting up a Bounded Field, and in seconds, the building was sealed.

Just as I returned to the bus stop to take a ride back to the motel, I heard shouts.

I stopped and looked out towards the Coast.

… Then I promptly ignored it and sat down on the bus stop.

It wasn't my problem.

* * *

**2008, January 19th**

After bringing Rebecca and Steven to my new hideout (and stealing more than one set of furniture from the motel), I quickly set about cleaning the second floor, which I intended to use for housing. It had the most room out of the three floors in the building with seven rooms. The top floor had five with a big lobby and the first floor had two rooms with a big open space.

We, excluding Steven, worked on it for the next week, just clearing out the entire building between the times I went out to steal money from unsuspecting tourists and gangsters.

Funny thing about gangsters: if someone like them roamed their area, they didn't give two shits, especially when the "new" guy referred to them as "senior" and asked for advice.

By the end of the week, the entire floor of my new hideout was clean and I put in the furniture that I have been keeping in my Inventory.

I did the smart thing after we were done: I trained.

'I want to fuck Rebecca,' I grumbled mentally while groaning on the cement floor of the first floor. I had cleaned this place too so that it wouldn't be dusty and moldy, but that was all I did. I didn't add any furniture or other decorations except for a single generator that would power the building and a water heater, both of which were placed in different rooms. I didn't know how to do the piping but once I got this technique down, then I would have the time.

Because shadow clones were time multipliers.

I mean, technically speaking, I already knew how to use the Shadow Clone Technique. The true problem for me laid in the technique itself.

The Shadow Clone Technique as it was shown in Naruto did as advertised; it split the user's chakra evenly among the generated clones to create a physically solid copy. Only Naruto and other jinchuriki (human seals of the tailed beasts like Kurama the Kyuubi) could use the Multi Shadow Clone Technique due to their nigh bottomless pool of chakra.

There lay the problem.

I wasn't a jinchuriki.

Sure, I could use it - and I did! - but after summoning three shadow clones, I and the clones were writhing on the floor.

One by one, the clones popped and I breathed out a sigh as my chakra returned to me but in diminished quantity. I crawled up and tried to stand, only to fall backward and land on my ass.

"Ow," I mumbled to myself as my legs and arms shook. They were recovering, but this was pretty bad. "So t-that's chakra exhaustion. Not fun," I mumbled to myself.

It took another two hours for me to get better enough to try again.

I crossed my fingers.

"Shadow Clone Technique!" I said.

On that note, I don't have to use the Japanese names for the techniques.

Poof!

A single shadow clone formed in front of me. It blinked and blinked before looking down at me.

"It worked," it said.

I groaned as I fell backward, feeling my already diminished chakra reserve dip again.

… And then …

Eureka.

My eyes widened before I scrambled up. "My chakra's returning," I said. "The pool's a little bigger, too."

The clone tilted its head to the side. "Well, the franchise did say that exercising increases chakra reserve. Maybe this counts, too?"

I supposed it did, because how was this not different from working out muscles?

"Ow," I muttered. "Well, it fucking hurts."

The clone scoffed. "Well, I'm going to go to the library and get me myself some knowledge. See you… whenever I pop." Then it walked away.

"Don't let yourself get popped in public!" I shouted after it. It waved at me, and moments later, it henged into a completely different person.

After another ten minutes of just enjoying the quiet and not being in pain, I flipped over and started push-ups.

Exercise! Exercise!

It was my path to survival!

Exercise! Exercise!

Ping. Ping.

Huh?

Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

I stopped my sit-up and looked around. Where was that sound coming from?

… an intruder?!

I imagined myself falling and remembered that sensation from somewhere within me. This feeling triggered my Magic Circuits, the soul that powered my Thaumaturgy, and I quickly looked around.

The Bounded Field … had not been penetrated. There were no intruders.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Where the hell was this sound coming from? It was too close to me.

Ping. Ping.

...

PING!

"WAK!" I squawked as I scrambled back when a screen popped up in front of me. After hyperventilating for a few seconds, I grumbled. "I have to stop being scared by my own powers."

I looked at the screen, and my eyes widened.

[Level Up! Please allocate your level.]

I immediately went into my Character Status Page and dumped that point into Demon Race even as I thanked the shadow clone.

My reason for this was simple: a Lesser Demon (what I was) was a slave to his sin but a Greater Demon or even Demon Lord (what I could become) was not. While the Thief job class was keeping me fed and watered, I didn't particularly desire fucking a random woman in the streets because my Lust took over me.

That would be bad because not only would I be outing myself but because, well, superhero police?

I also checked my character(me)'s history.

And my eyes widened.

I gained experience points not just from surviving conflicts and stealing, but I also gained significant experience points from gaining knowledge, moderate amounts from exercising, and miniscule amounts from fucking.

…

This was it.

Chain Shadow Clone Technique to leveling would grant me better body and mind. From better body and mind, I would gain more chakra. From more chakra, I can create more Shadow Clones.

This was it!

I laughed as a plan came to my mind.

Survival depended on my power, and I just found out how to grind extremely well.

I was going to celebrate by fucking Rebecca.

No, no, no! Focus on the training! I can fuck Rebecca when I'm at least LvL 10!

GRAHHHH!

Ping ping ping ping...

Yay, shadow clones… ow.

* * *

I reached LvL 5 by the time the sun set, and all of those extra levels had gone straight into my Racial Class. To my surprise, I got the chance to choose a special ability when I hit Lesser Demon level 5. It was between the ability called Soul Devourer and another called Summon Lesser Kin.

Soul Devourer gave me more EXP by allowing me to eat the souls of those I killed. It was also probably a surefire way to get associated with someone called the Faerie Queen, which was considered a really bad thing on the PHO.

The other ability was Summon Lesser Kin, which allowed me to summon weaker versions of other Demons from a place called the Abyss. As long as I was stronger than them, they would obey me.

I chose the Summon Lesser Kin, and the options available to me were thus: Weak Bebelith, Weak Goristro, and Vrock; a big spider, a bipedal berserking cow, or a stupid bird with arms.

I was happy with that. If anything, then they could act as expendable fighters.

"How are you settling in, Rebecca?" I asked my servant while we ate dinner.

She stopped fussing over messy Steven and looked up at me with a worried look. "I am … doing well," she said before looking away. "It's better than what I had for the last five years."

I nodded happily. "Good, good. What about Steven? How was he today? I hope he wasn't too bored?"

Suddenly, she gained a fearful expression. "N-no. He has b-been good. I swear."

I waved her off. "I'm not going to do anything to him. I'm just curious, is all." I think she's scared of me doing something bad to her son. "Just a quick question, but isn't Steven at the age where he should be in preschool?" I asked.

She flushed. "I … couldn't provide him that."

"... Well, I can do it for you. It's not like he doesn't have a birth certificate, right?"

"H-He does…?" she looked up at me with wide, surprised look. "You are willing to…?"

I smiled with narrowed eyes. "It's only what would make you happy, Rebecca. Isn't it?"

She nodded hastily. "I-It would!"

"Good good."

Later that night, I watched as Rebecca put Steven to sleep. She came out of his room (the lucky boy got his own room at his age), and looked up to me. She had a rather complicated expression, something that was becoming the norm for her when she was around me.

Right now, she looked like someone who knew what was coming yet resigned to it. She was both grateful yet resentful.

When she pulled the door to Steven's room close, a rune pattern lit up along the edges of the door, signifying soundproof feature of the runes activating. The runes dimmed enough to be nearly indifferentiable from the door's own white paint.

I smiled genially at her even as I stood up and gestured for her to follow me. I headed to my bedroom, and Rebecca quietly followed behind me. I stepped aside as she stepped into the room, and closed the door behind us. The same runes that lit up on Steven's door lit up on my door.

I turned back to her, but noted briefly how sparse my room was compared to the "living room" of the second floor; I had a double king-sized bed with bedsheets, one small wardrobe, and a basket for laundry, nothing more.

Then I focused my attention on Rebecca, who kept her hands together in front of her and her head tilted a bit down.

Smiling salaciously, I approached her and snaked my arm around her waist. I turned both of us around towards the bed and brought us to it.

I sat down on the bed, and dispelled the minute henge I had on myself, revealing the horns that grew out of my temples and pointed forward and up. With each level in my Lesser Demon race, it had grown until it was now four inches long on each side.

Rebecca stared at the horns, startled, which made it easier for me to pull her down to the bed. She bounced on the soft mattress of the bed before she snapped out of whatever it was that plagued her mind. She gulped.

I leaned forward.

"Strip for me."

She hesitated before looking down. Her hands slowly came up and grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head in one go.

My eyes widened when I saw that she wore a lacey bra.

"Naughty, naughty," I tsked playfully as she pulled her t-shirt off completely. She refused to look at me with her blushing face. I snaked myself around her, placing one leg on each side of her and making sure that she felt my stiff and throbbing dick on her lower back.

She squirmed as I brought my hands on her side and slid up, caressing her softly as I could. She shivered under my silent ministration, leaning back and placing her head on top of my shoulder by leaning into me. She whimpered when I hooked her bra and pulled it aside, tossing it on the floor. It left her boobs to pop out of their confines.

I hummed happily as I groped both of her boobs, and licked the nape of her neck, eliciting a mewl from her.

"My sexy ginger, that's who you are, Rebecca," I whispered into her ear. She responded by grabbing my groping hands with hers, and pushing them deeper into her boobs. Rebecca moaned as I pinched her nipples and pulled them away from her.

I kissed her shoulders as I massaged her boobs, and she panted with need.

Since the start of our relationship, Rebecca had been becoming better at relaxing in our nightly sessions. It only recently that she realized I was not going to punish her or anything like that by allowing herself to enjoy the carnal pleasures of our intercourse.

"Alan, p-please!" she begged as she forcibly flipped herself around. I let go of her boobs as she did so, and she straddled me. I quickly grabbed her side and put her back to the bed and flipped myself over too.

She looked up to me with wide eyes, biting her lips and flaring her nostrils.

"You don't ask me like that, Rebecca. You should know that by now~" I teased with a grin even as I grabbed her skirt and pulled it and her panties off. She wiggled her legs as I undressed her, and when it was off, I tossed them aside. Instead of pulling her legs wide and plunging my dick into her warmth, I waited. I wrapped an arm around her legs while grabbing her boob with the other. "What do you say?"

Her lips quivered a bit before she gulped and spoke. "Please fuck me, master…!"

"Gladly."

It was only then that I pulled her legs apart and tossed my clothes into the Inventory, essentially flash stripping me. I grabbed my dick and pushed it against her wet pussy's entrance. It took no more than a single hip thrust to get myself deep inside of her, and Rebecca moaned as she felt my entire length plug her up.

I leaned down, wrapping my arms around arm as I did so, and kissed her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let me kiss her and gingerly returned the kiss. I pushed my teeth against her teeth and she opened them. In seconds, my tongue was inside of her mouth, wrapping around hers like a snack around a prey.

She moaned into my mouth as I slowly pulled my dick out of her, and just when I only had the head of my dick inside of her, I pounded into her. She squeaked a little between her moan.

I broke the kiss and pulled myself off of her, hovering over her.

She squeaked, moaned, and begged as I pounded into her, and I gave her release after release.

* * *

**2008, January 26th**

Over the past week, I grinded my level rather hard. Thanks to the constant training coupled with multiple uses of Shadow Clones each day, by 22nd of January, I was able to use two Shadow Clones at once without being winded completely. This was before I hit a total LvL of 10 on my Lesser Demon on the 23rd. Reaching level 10 on Lesser Demon opened up more options for me. The first immediate effect was me having to choose between an upgrade to my existing Summoning or Improved Demonic Physiology; I chose the upgrade and better leashed Summoning.

The second immediate effect was a minor upgrade to my physiology; my available pool of chakra went from being able to create two shadow clones to three. Yesterday night, I sent out three clones and another three clones in the morning when I barely recovered the chakra reserve. My clones went out there beating up gangsters and pickpocketing random people.

And by noon today, I was LvL 12.

Finally, I put a level on Thief out of curiosity. An alert popped up. I gawked at the sudden spells and ability I just gained: [Brief Stealth], [Backstab], [Distract], and [Throwing Weapon Proficiency].

Maybe I should have gone for Thief?

… No, no, no. Stick to leveling the Racial Classes first.

I froze as a clone popped and all of its memories entered my mind.

The clone in question was the very first clone I made a week ago. Its memories sped by in my mind. Everything from its studies in the library to the exploration of the Downtown and the tour of the PRT ENE headquarter… and then getting accosted by the PRT ENE's soldiers, getting arrested, and interrogated.

And then the timer ran out and poof.

Well, I now knew the theoretical carpenting and electrical setups.

Argh, I guess I have to be quieter about how I -.

Poof poof.

My scowling face flattened as two more clones popped, and I learned that both of them had been killed by gangsters.

No, come on. No no no-

Poof.

"Fuck!"

There were only three clones out there now.

Poof Poof!

I growled as frustration began to mount. What the fuck was going on out there?!

* * *

**Name:**  
Alan Marris

**Race**:  
Lesser Demon - LvL. 11

**Job Class**:  
Thief - LvL. 1

**Karma**:  
Neutral (-50)

**Special Racial Ability**:  
Summon Weak Kin  
Summon Kin

**Job Spells**:  
Sinister Strike 0; Pickpocket 0  
Brief Stealth 1; Backstab 1; Distract 1


	3. Chapter 3

_**Note: Fixed inconsistency regarding Rebecca by changing chapter 1's content.**_

* * *

**2008, January 19th**  
(What the last three clones were doing)

The three clones poofed into existence and grinned along with their creator. They gave each other a thumbs-up before moving out as they changed their faces.

Clone1 stopped after they were in the abandoned buildings between Self's hideout and the bustop. "You guys realize something?" it asked Clone2 and Clone3.

"What?" Clone2 asked.

"None of us look like us, and if we keep your appearance short and our disappearance out of sight…" it gestured with its hands, miming guns.

Clone3 looked thoughtful. "I doubt Self wants us to create a mess."

"Bah, mess is everywhere in this city. It's godawful."

Clone2 agreed with a nod. "What kind of a mess are we talking about? I doubt you want the local police after us. They'll make it their job to hunt us."

"... Why not hit the local Nazis?"

Clone2 and Clone3 looked at each other briefly before looking back to the grinning Clone1.

"Where, specifically?" Clone3 asked. "It's not like we know where they are, and I doubt we can just find the place where they initiate newcomers."

Clone1 looked thoughtful. "Well, the rumor is that E88 holds the suburbs, which is a freaking wide area to search, and the other place they were seen was the Commercial District."

"You want us to jump into the border between the super police and the super Nazis?"

"Yeah?" Clone1 replied a little uncertainly.

Clone3 frowned. "I don't think we can accomplish much there."

Clone2 jerked his chin at 3. "Agree with him. It's not like we have a lot of weapons to help ourselves with."

Clone1 grinned. "Then we raid a gunshop that looks too Neo-Nazi!" it replied cheerfully. "I mean, we've seen it, right? The clearly Nazi places."

"... Okay, sure. How are we going to do this?"

I blinked that memory and other memories away before opening my Inventory. My jaws dropped as I beheld a literal armory. I now had multiple safes, sixty something guns ranging from Glock pistols to AK-101 and even a German MG4 machine gun.

That and an additional ten thousand dollars.

I whistled. "They made big bucks," I mumbled to myself. "And killed more than a few Nazis," I added when I saw the Character History page and saw just how many EXP I gained from the clones putting leads into Nazis. I wasn't there yet for lvl 14, but I was closer now.

Two of the three clones fought till the end, but the last clone wasn't dead yet.

Poof.

Ah, there's the last one.

I quickly went over its memories before grinning.

"Okay," I said with a little cackle. "So that's where the Nazis are gathering next week." Clone3, you snakey bastard. Thank you for the information! "Which means I have one week to improve myself to the utmost possible level before I crash into their little meeting. I like the challenge," I added at the end anticipatorily.

I crossed my fingers, and five clones poofed into existence. With the exception of one, four of them sprinted out into the world, eager to hunt down gangsters and pickpocket more people. The remaining clone turned to me, and we nodded to each other.

Both of me's drew a gun each (stolen from the Nazi gun shop) and began to practice.

* * *

**2008, January 22nd**

I grinned happily as I reached the final level for my Lesser Demon Race.

Ping!

I watched as the alerts came up for a new ability. I either had to choose Demon of Man or Man of Demon. Demon of Man gave me access to special races that only Lesser Demons had access to, but Man of Demon boosted all abilities I have and would gain. It was a gamble, basically.

I chose to gamble.

Demon of Man, it was!

The alert came to me as soon as I selected the option.

… And it wouldn't tell me what I gained. Alright, that's … irritating. Very much so.

… I just lost the gamble, didn't I?

* * *

**2008, January 23rd**

Extra EXP for wiping out a minor gang in Manchester~.

Extra EXP for wiping out a minor gang in Boston~.

Extra EXP for … killing a cape in New Providence?

The fuck?

Whatever, I just got a level up. Tossed that level into Thief, and oh~. Longer invisibility. Nice.

* * *

**2008, January 24th**

Nothing much today, which was odd.

My clones were all out there, but most of them were pickpocketing rather than killing gangsters. Maybe I killed too many gangsters?

That was a possibility. I mean, my clones and I killed like …

*Counting*

Three hundred seventy gangsters across four major cities in New England. Damn, I killed a lot of them, didn't I? There's also a lot of fake gangsters and civilians I killed. The hell?

… Well, fake gangsters probably earned the Darwin's Award. I mean, gang wars are a thing so they were painting a target on themselves, and I just happened to be the one to pull the trigger.

As for the civilians, which ones did I kill that were just bystanders? None of the memories showed me civilians in any of the people I killed…

Something to think about next time.

* * *

**2008, January 25th**

And maxed out the Thief.

Choose new class…

Assassin, which gives me a double damage buff to all surprise attacks. Still level 0, so that was the only buff and skill I got from the Assassin job class, but it was far better combat skill than anything from the Thief Job Class already.

* * *

**2008, January 26th**

The E88 would converge for their monthly meet-up on midnight.

… Seriously, a Neo-Nazi gang had a "monthly" meet-up at the end of the month. What were they, the local grandmother's association for sweets and candies? Where was the villains' meeting with his lieutenants in a secret underground room under a huge tower-?

I stopped and looked at the yellow and red crown adorning the tallest tower in the city.

"Nah," I said to myself as I waited for the midnight to approach. "I mean, it's too cliche, right?"

I turned back to the warehouse that was supposed to be tonight's meeting place for the Brockton Bay Neo-Nazis.

From the information I gathered, the leader and the lieutenants of the Empire Eighty-Eight weren't supposed to all be here tonight. The ones who were here were supposed to be Hookwolf, Krieg, and Crusader.

Hookwolf was a metallic wolf-shaped meat grinder.

Krieg was "fuck whoever comes at me."

And Crusader was multi-ghost "I ignore solid walls."

I could not hope to continue a long fight with them. If I did, then I was looking to a disadvantageous fight with people who had more cape reinforcements ready to show up, if they weren't hiding for an ambush.

My goal tonight was simple.

Kill one of the three with sniper rifles I stole from the gun shop raid last week, and then ditch the place before the Neo-Nazis swarmed. I intended to also deploy a lot of shadow clones to sow havoc while wearing the faces of the Nazis themselves.

I shivered at the thought of the Nazis shouting and shooting their own friends after some of my clones shot them. The chaos I would cause… oh, I just wanted to watch it all unfold.

I'll have to refrain from doing it live, however, because I didn't want to be here when the chaos unfolded.

Thirteen shadow clones and I, the most I could muster after a full day of preparation, waited on top of the warehouse, looking through the windows on the roof of the warehouse.

And there were less of the capes than I expected. Hookwolf and Crusader were still here, but Krieg was not. Outside of the capes, there were at least a hundred initiated gangsters of the E88 loitering around and waiting for whatever this meeting was to begin.

One of the shadow clones raised its hand up. Then it signed to the rest.

'Attack now?'

All of us looked between each other before shrugging.

We all changed our faces to the faces of the Nazis below, and quick kawarimi ensured that we were among them.

Five of the fourteen of us wasted no time. We aimed our weapons at the capes on stage and fired while the rest began to shoot at anything that wasn't us.

Hookwolf was quick to change when he saw the guns rise up towards him, but Crusader was inexperienced and new to the cape scene. He yelped and dodge. Against M-14, however, he was too out in the open. He took a shot to the head, three to the chest, and another to his shoulder as he jumped away. He crashed down onto the floor and laid there, still.

Hookwolf, on the other hand, whirled into a roaring wolf made out metal hooks, and he jumped at the clones.

The shooting clones wasted no time replacing themselves with Nazis with kawarimi, watching gleefully as the Nazi wolf killed his allies.

"Traitors!" someone shouted and guns were pulled out. "Race traitors among us!"

Yes, yes, YES!

All of my clones followed up on the shouting, and began to shoot the ones who pulled their guns out. Soon, those near me began to pull out their guns and shot the Nazi my clones shot at. Hookwolf locked onto one of the clones, but that clone kept on switching places with some mook, and the E88 cape was forced to either stop or follow through on his attack.

The cape followed through with his attack, and send body parts and blood flying everywhere, adding to the chaos. The clone that Hookwolf was chasing laughed.

"DOGGY CAN'T CATCH ME!" it cackled as it continued to shoot at Hookwolf. Some of the gangsters tried to help Hookwolf, but all they did was get in the cape's way, literally because the chase clone kept switching places with them.

Hookwolf growled before he stopped and ran out of the warehouse, but by then, it was too late for the people inside. Too many of them were shooting at each other to the point that even when the clones switched places with the gangsters, they got shot anyway.

The clones all began to die from the heavy firefighting within the warehouse, but I accomplished what I came here for.

And then poof.

I, the fourteenth clone, died as well, leaving only the pistols I held in my hands to drop to the floor.

The real me back home cackled as the memories of my clones' successful kill of Crusader and thirty odd gangsters.

"What are you laughing about?" Rebecca asked sleepily as she got on from the bed. I had timed the assault so that I was fucking Rebecca as the memories of the clones killing people were entering my mind. I "murderfucked," so to speak.

I grinned maliciously, stretching the corners of my lips to the fullest. "Just enjoying the memories of dying Nazis." She shivered a bit before laying back down, muttering 'whatever.' I

Ping.

Nice, I just got a level up, and hummed as I immediately opened up my character status page to find a new job or race class.

Ah, this was a good day.

Hmm… a race class called Obyrith? It sounded interesting.

… It looked interesting.

I crossed my fingers and created four more shadow clones, each of which quickly henged and left the room and then the building to grind more EXP. I ignored them and focused on comparing and contrasting the job classes and the race classes. I had other options like Incubus available to me, which apparently got extra boost to all of their abilities because I chose Lust as my sin. However, they lacked a lot of combat powers, abilities, and spells. There were job classes like Infiltrator, which made all sensing abilities weak around me while boosting any kind of sabotage and information extraction faster, cheaper, and better.

After a while, I chose Obyriths for their special ability, "Abyssal Claimant." Essentially, this ability allowed me to create a pocket dimension that I could travel to and from once I maxed out the Obyrith Racial Class that grew in proportion to my maximum mana.

It was the ultimate hidey hole, and I called that the perfect ability for a Thief like myself.

* * *

**2008, January 28th**

"Oh, the Chief American Nazi's on the internet," I muttered to myself as I scrolled through PHO through a smartphone and prepaid data package I bought with stolen money. I didn't think it a great idea to use stolen phone, which resulted in me selling them to the back alley shops in the Docks that broke them apart for scraps and components.

Chief American Nazi (CAN), and otherwise known as Kaiser, uploaded a video on the PHO and various other website, including website runs up far-right extremeists who refused to take the video down because "they refused to infringe on the constitutional right to freedom of speech."

FBI would be on their doorsteps soon as far as I was concerned.

I clicked on one such video and played it.

Kaiser stood behind a podium with three different mics turned towards him. He stood in his full costume-armor with so many tacky Buddhist windmill insignias that I wondered for a second if there were any Buddhists - or even Hindus - watching this video right now.

Behind the leader of the E88 was the banner of said gang, displayed proudly as if there was anything proud to be about being haters and racists.

"It is inefficient to be a hater, even a demon can tell you that," I snickered quietly with a pun only I would understand.

The video began to play.

"{I greet you all-}" I stopped the video and laughed at how absurdly calm the man sounded despite the fact that he mustn't be. "{- and I hope that our brothers and sisters find today a good day. For the Empire, it is a sad day, however. Yesterday night, we were holding an initiation for new recruits who were to join our ranks. The scums of the city, however, learned of the gathering of our brothers and sisters, and laid an ambush. They struck even before the initiation began and killed many, including Crusader. We learned that the lowlives responsible for the deaths of our brothers and sisters is the cape known as Faker, a Stranger/Master who steals the faces of good men and women and uses them to assault honest workers and businesses in the city of Brockton Bay.

"{Today, I call upon the Empire's brethren to come down upon this city! I hereby declare war upon Faker! If you are watching this video Faker, then know this! We, the master race of the Aryans, will not stand for the death and destruction you bring upon this city! You, the killer of the righteous, will be brought low and executed for all to see!}"

The E88 logo appeared at the end of the video and it came to an end, and it was a very short video of only one minutes and twelve seconds. I would admit that it was professionally made with the right amount of lighting and showmanship, but it was really cringy at the end there.

"Master race"? Really?

"Killer of the righteous"? Seriously?

Argh.

I closed the browser and laid the phone down flat on the table in front of me.

"Well, if they want a war, then I can certainly give them one," I muttered to myself. "I wonder how it will be like for me turn them against each other, though?"

Already, thoughts and plans about how I can use the Empire against itself churned through my mind. If I caught even one cape, then I could torture them until they accepted a Geis to kill another cape of their own or even more.

Oh yes, I could see the possibilities just drawing themselves in my mind!

"Hey, Rebecca!" I called out, and she looked up from the kitchen where she was washing the dishes after our "family" breakfast. One of my shadow clones was by her side, drying the dishes with a clean rag.

"Yes?" she said while stopping the washing as she stilled her hands to be attentive to me. I liked that.

"You're the native here in this city, so I want to know what kind of things will happen if I decide the Empire."

She looked at me shocked. "U-Uhh, the Empire's been here forever…"

"And what would happen if I gutted them? I doubt I can kill them all within the next month or so, but I think I can kill a few more of the capes at the very least."

She cringed. "I mean…" she stopped warily, and then spoke back up. "The ABB is going to get bigger, and the Merchants would get bigger? The Teeth might come back…"

I blinked. That was a new name. "Who're the Teeth?" I asked curiously with a raised eyebrow. The name was ominous enough that it had to be villain gang…

"They're worse than the Empire. They just kill, steal, and do everything else that's bad. If they don't like you, then they will burn buildings down for shits and giggles."

"Huh," I muttered. "That would be bad."

This "Teeth" didn't sound like guys I wanted in my city. On the other hand, I wasn't about to give the Empire a good fisting for their war declaration.

…

Well, I supposed that I didn't have to kill too many of them. I just had to kill enough of them that they were no longer a big threat to me.

* * *

Unfortunately for me, I wouldn't get to shit on the Empire because less than a week after their declaration of war and before any of us could really get on a real offensive outside of few skirmishes I caused with ambushes, an Endbringer struck Miami.

And that meant "Endbringer Truce."

* * *

**2008, February 1st**

When the shrieking and obnoxious alarm that was the Endbringer Siren went off, all of my clones immediately stopped whatever they were doing and dispelled themselves.

Back home, I groaned as thirty shadow clones' worth of memories struck at once, causing nausea and dizziness. Even so, I powered through it to read what was being displayed online.

I quickly accessed the PRT's official website, and they had the announcement banner out.

[Endbringer Leviathan attack upon Miami. A call out to Endbringer Truce and volunteers.]

I … didn't feel fear. Admittedly, I didn't personally know the damages an Endbringer could bring about. All I saw was an event where I could rack up EXP.

"Rebecca, I'm going to the battle!" I shouted as I quickly put a rough costume on myself.

"W-wait, don't go!" Rebecca quickly shouted back as she rushed down the stairs. "You're going to die!"

I skidded to a stop. Right, it'll be bad for her if I just up and died. I called up my Inventory and pulled out ten thousand dollars. I turned around and put the five hundred bills of twenties on the floor before I rushed out. "If I die, then the contract ends and you can live off that for a while while you try to get a job!"

As I raced out, I heard her shout this.

"That's not what I wanted to say!"

Ignoring all else for now, I dropped my henge and allowed my true Obyrith appearance to see the daylight. My past self's appearance disappeared in a puff of smoke, and I gleefully stretched my taller body and wings. My red horns now jutted far out in their ox-like shape from my changed featherless bird-like head. My body took on a bony appearance with jutting ribs and thin arms. While it looked like I lost muscles, I have in fact grown nearly a yard in height, making those same "bone-thin" arms thicker than the arms and legs of most athletes. My bat-like bone-framed yet arthropod-membraned wings spanned ten yards across and allowed me to fly.

And so, I flew across the city at nearly fifty miles per hour, cutting across the skies like a great predator.

It felt good to scare some people.

… On the other hand, the Protectorate might attack me because of my appearance.

'Oh, right, I should let them know I'm coming.'

I quickly pulled out a smartphone, now diminutive in my one-foot hands, and used the fingertips to dial the local PRT. I held it up to my ear as I slowed myself down to reduce the sounds of the wind.

"{This is PRT ENE, how may I help you?}"

I cleared my throat, which sounded like boulders a lion grumbling, before I spoke. "This is a cape the Empire called the Faker. I am volunteering for the Endbringer fight. I am currently flying towards the PRT ENE headquarter."

"{O-Oh. Very well, I shall let the Director and the Protectorate know. From which direction are you coming from?}"

"Southeast. I am very big and very red."

"{I will alert the … Huh? What do you…? Hold on for a moment please, I think we just got you on our radar. Can you tell me how big you are…?!}"

"Roughly nine feet tall and thirty across."

There was a squeak on the other side and someone spoke unbelievingly. "{Uh uh-. Can you please land on the rooftop of the PRT ENE?}"

"Very well." Then I hung up.

Then I was once again blasting forward.

* * *

**Interlude:**  
**Armsmaster**

Endbringer battles were always situations that lent opportunities to improve himself. With each battle, he improved and tweaked. His armor became stronger and tougher. His weapons grew sharper and faster.

His feats and achievements made the world acknowledge him as the best Tinker across the North American Atlantic Coast since the fall of Hero, his mentor. There was that Canadian Tinker, but she'd yet to bring herself up to his level, but the way she analyzed and reverse-engineered Tinkertech was respectable to him.

"{Armsmaster,}" the PRT communications manager pinged him. "{We have a new volunteer incoming from the southeast. It's the Face-Taker.}"

Immediately, Armsmaster tensed.

Face-Taker was the name assigned to the villain who's been killing gangsters and other villains across Brockton Bay and neighboring cities. Face-Taker, or Faker as the Empire Eighty-Eight called him, was a prolific, cold, ruthless, and heartless killer. It didn't matter to the Face-Taker if his victim was with their family or sleeping or fighting. If they were a gangster, then they were to be killed. Face-Taker was also not hesitant to kill civilians if they got in the way of the fight.

The PRT already had over three hundred deaths attributed to him, and the only reason there was no Kill Order on the villain was because he specifically went after villains and gangsters.

He was a monster.

So Armsmaster readied himself if Face-Taker decided to break the Endbringer Truce to kill as many capes as he could on the helipad of the PRT ENE headquarters, which involved the E88's very own leader, Kaiser.

As much as it revolted him to do so but because it was part of the Truce, Armsmaster walked over to Kaiser who was but a few steps away and whispered.

"The Faker is on his way. Be alert."

Kaiser stiffened before nodding. "Thank you for the warning."

The horrible man, even if disgusting in the support of white supremacy, was polite, at least.

Armsmaster returned to his position at the southeastern edge of the helipad and waited.

Then his helmet's camera spotted a dot in the distance approaching quickly. He double-blinked on the dot, and his HUD expanded on the dot before changing out the high frame rate camera to high fidelity camera. The camera zoomed in, and Armsmaster saw … a red bird.

He blinked in confusion before he zoomed in further. His HUD was stating that the bird was nearly thirty-feet across.

There was no natural and red bird in existence with that wingspan.

Then when the bird reached ten miles out from the PRT ENE headquarter, Armsmaster saw a human-like but very clearly avian face on the bird.

'Is that Face-Taker?' he wondered before he looked down at the call button on the bottom left of his helmet HUD, blinked twice to call up the quick contact list, and then blinked twice on the PRT ENE's broadcast system.

Once he was through, he spoke up.

"Possible Face-Taker approaching the headquarters from southeast, inbound at fifty-three miles per hour, nine miles out."

As the figure grew closer, he saw more details come to be. His helmet HUD was also reporting uncommon data like the possible Face-Taker's nine feet height, an abnormality even among Case-53's.

Then he was within a mile of the headquarters, and finally slowed down.

Finally, Face-Taker came to a slow stop and landed just on the edge of the headquarters rooftop, perching on the knee-high walls of the rooftop with his spindly crow-like feet before stepping down to the roof itself.

"State your name and purpose," Armsmaster declared.

"Faker, as the dumb Nazis like to call me, and to volunteer for the Endbringer fight," the giant avian groused with graveling crushingly deep voice.

Everyone from Brockton Bay stared at "Faker" with wide eyes.

He was even taller than Manpower.

"Is that your Changer state?" Armsmaster asked.

"No," Faker replied. "This is my base form."

ZAP!

Several of the people on the helipad turned to look at the newcomer, or rather their ride. "Strider is her- oh, what the fuck."

Armsmaster grunted. "He's a volunteer. Let's get moving. We have a city to save."

* * *

**Interlude:**  
**Kaiser**

'So he's the one who's been pushing us back,' Max thought as he observed the red crow.

Faker was the most annoying cape he had ever fought. He was never there for the actual fight, always deploying his expendable projections to do the deed. On top of that, all of the projections could change their faces at will, making identifying him impossible unless he went on a witch hunt and got lucky.

Faker walked up to the helipad, and the two of them met each other's eyes. The monstrous cape spared him no more than two seconds before he turned away and walked towards Strider, who looked more and more ill as carrion-like Case-53 (because that's what he had to be) came closer.

"If everyone will touch me on the arms or shoulders?" Strider said a little waveringly.

Kaiser wasted no time but didn't allow himself to appear hasty. He gracefully lifted his arm up and lightly clasped down on Strider's shoulder.

Everyone else followed his example, including the crow.

'I will kill you for humiliating me,' Max thought as they were teleported.

The dreary skies of North Atlantic Sea changed to that of a dreary and rainy tropical Florida. The rain pelted like a drum on his metal armor and helmet but he ignored it in favor of surveying the battlefield.

The PRT protocol for reinforcement was that they would appear on the other side of the city from where the Endbringer was, making reinforcements never arrived in the same spot.

'It's better than teleporting into where the Endbringer is kicking around,' Max reminded himself as he saw the once rich city of Miami half sunken under the ocean from what had to be the initial tidal wave Leviathan was so fond of.

Another shorter-range teleporter dropped off next to them with a box. She hurried over to them, opened the box, and set it down. "Take only one!" she shouted. "This is your Endbringer Wristband! You need to wear it so that we can communicate and know your status!" she shouted before rushing off to somewhere else.

Many of the independents who chose to volunteer all rushed in to take one. Those who didn't were Max himself, Krieg, Armsmaster, some no-name, and Faker. Just like he did, Faker surveyed the city from where they were on top of a particularly tall building out at the edge of the suburb-city border.

"So this is an Endbringer battle."

Kaiser snorted.

Once the newcomers were done grabbing a wristband, he reached down and picked one up himself. Faker did the same.

And then he did something weird. He raised his hands up to the sky, palms up. "Summon: Kin!"

A planar black hole appeared above him, and Kaiser grimaced as a grotesque monster made out of flesh and fibers slithered out of the portal. "Hmm, my mana can take it," Faker muttered before shouting again. "Summon: Kin!"

This time, a different monster popped out of the portal, a fat demon with a goat's head walking on four legs while it had two stubby arms resting on top of its human-like beer belly. It jumped down and landed on the roof next to Faker while the blob of red flesh and tentacles remained floating. He stopped holding his arms up and the portal closed.

Kaiser stared at the creatures and grimaced.

"You weren't even fighting us at your best," he growled.

Faker looked at him before cracking a grin. "No." Then he turned away, looking down at the wristband and talking with the automated messaging system on it.

"Faker, active. Duty: search and rescue," the wristband declared.

Then Faker crossed his hands, and five of him appeared with poofs of smoke. "Faker moving to CF-8," he declared before all of his projections and he flew away.

Kaiser turned to Krieg, who was similarly grimacing and nodded at him.

They would talk about their enemy once the Endbringer battle was over.


	4. Chapter 4

**2008, February 1st (conti.)**

I was fine with search and rescue. Saving lives had to be like quests on a battlefield, right?

That said, I had enemies to my back and my front, so I had summoned two demonic kins to help me. The first one I summoned was a yargonal, a healer. The second was a telekinetic who would help where I needed delicate help.

I flew towards the direction the wristband pointed me towards, where supposedly three capes had been downed by a "water shadow." The clones and I flew in a rough V formation with me in the center and each end of the wingspan carrying the summoned demon kins with them. The rain pelted down on all of the clones and I, and it was really hard to see in this weather.

"{You have arrived at CF-8,}" the wristband alerted me. "{Raven is 103.12 meters south-southeast of you.}"

I looked towards the south, and I saw a crumpled building. I flew down there along with the clone with yargonal, while the rest of the clones kept watch for Leviathan. I landed on the wet streets with the clone and quickly approached the location.

The first thing I noticed was the blood mixing with the water.

The second thing I noticed was the cape known as Raven. He wore a feather coat that looked very tough, but it hadn't saved him from being de-limbed from the shoulder down to his hip.

"Yargonal!" I grunted, and the fleshy tentacle and glob demon extended its arms out. The barely conscious cape saw and panicked, not that he had the strength to fight off a literal demon.

The demon pushed its fibrous tentacles against the wound, and Raven hissed in pain. Slowly, however, the wound began to close, leaving behind stumps and smooth skin. One of the clones came down from above and landed right next to Raven. It scooped him up and flew away with a great flaps of the wings.

"{Valia down, CF-9. Realdope down, CF-10. Falkankick down, CF-9.}"

Before I lifted off, I quickly pulled up my character status page and looked at the top of my history page. I grinned so hard that my cheeks hurt for a bit, because I saw this.

[+50 EXP for healing ally from grievous/fatal wound.]

Healing was worth double the EXP of pickpocket, and this didn't yet count the success of rescuing someone.

I took off flying towards the nearest, and by the time I landed to help the "Valia" girl, I got a notification.

[+200 EXP for successful rescue.]

Ooh… yes.

This was going to be great.

I let yargonal heal this cape, and another clone came down to take her away.

KOOM!

I froze and looked up. A water sprout just erupted out of the ground not too far away from me to the east, and I could see it clearly from here over the ruined store building. There was a whoosh as something flew northward, plowing through the suburban buildings and tossing all manners of debris into the air.

"{Leviathan engaged, CH-8. Leviathan current location, CH-5.}"

I felt a chill rundown my spine.

Leviathan had been no more than a mile from where I was right now until something pushed it northward.

"Damn," I muttered to myself as I moved southward to the other downed fighters.

"{Leviathan moving southward, CG-6.}"

Oh fuck.

I took off the ground immediately and flew as high as I could, and turned around.

All I saw was a globe of water rushing at me in high speed. Instead of going up, I reversed my flight and flew downward, and I was awarded when the water boulder(?) rushed by where I would have gone if I hadn't stopped flying upward. I quickly looked around and my eyes widened when I saw Leviathan standing below me, tanking a hit from the black caped woman. Was that Alexandria?

Leviathan created water shadow, and it jumped up at me.

"Fuck-!" I hissed as I steered myself aw-

BOOM!

The water shadow exploded, becoming a water grenade. I screamed as the tiny bullets of water pelted against me. Tough as I was, those bullets still dug into my skin left me bleeding. My wing's membranes, on the other hand, was gone. I plummeted.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-!" I shouted before clasping my hands together. "Henge!"

POOF!

Falling out of the smoke, I still plummeted but I was a bird now. I righted myself in a second, and flew away, heading away from the ocean. I grimaced as my head threatened to split from the sudden dispelling of all of my clones in my immediate area and the subsequent rush of their memories. Once I was far enough, I let myself back down on the ground and dispelled the transformation.

"That was close-!" I hissed as I nursed the pinprick wounds riddling all of my face, chest, arms, and wings. I stretched my wings, but they were useless to me until I got it healed and considering that the clone holding yargonal was dead along with it, I was unlikely to be healed until after the battle.

I could summon more demons, but I wanted to save my mana for emergencies. My chakra did return to me with the death of five of my shadow clones, but it wasn't enough for more than two. I could also change my shape to that of a beast to fight Leviathan, but I doubted my survival was high. Death was looming over me right now-.

Something sped by me and crashed into a house.

I whirled around and saw that it was a cape.

I quickly rushed over to them, but their vacantly staring eyes and missing abdomen was a clear indication of their death.

"{Boggar, deceased. Cadence down, CD-9.}"

Letting out a stream of frustrated and trembling breath, I clasped my hands together. "Henge!" Then I poofed into a bird again and headed towards Cadence's location.

As much danger as Leviathan presented, I was not going to skip this event!

Outside of that single instance encounter with Leviathan, I didn't run into the Endbringer again despite the fact that the Miami battle lasted for nearly four hours.

I had been nowhere near as efficient or as widespread as I had hoped to be with all of the initial shadow clones I made but with three clones and a new summoned healer demon on the first hour mark, I managed to scrape together enough rescues and heals to get myself two levels.

Totally worth it.

I worked at the temporary battlefield headquarters by healing capes who I did not have a chance to help with my second yargonal. The situation was actually really bad, though. Once Leviathan's retreat was announced, the headquarters didn't accept just the volunteer capes but also civilians who were hurt in the conflict.

Leviathan had broken all utilities in the city, and so the headquarters with its limited supplies of electricity, medical professionals, and tools was the only place where many of the people could get their treatment.

Awkwardly, I was the only "villain" healer on-site because I wanted to stay and gain as much EXP as I could. All other villains, healer or combatant, had already left.

Unfortunately, this led me to situations where I had to deal with patients like … these.

Having henged into a human form with a domino mask to not aggravate some of the patient's conditions, I glared at the latest "patient" in my tent.

"I told you, no!" I growled. "I don't have time for whatever long ass procedure you need from me!"

"But I will pay you!" the thin and rich man shouted back with a scowl on his face. "I need this!"

"Take it up with some hero! I just said I don't give a shit!" I shouted again before heading to the entrance of my tent and tossed it open. "Guards, I have a disruptive element here!" I shouted. Immediately, PRT guards came rushing to my aid, only to peek inside the tent and hesitating. "Well?" I demanded. "Kick him out. He doesn't have any critical conditions I can fix on a short time." They didn't.

"Um, he's the senator."

I raised an eyebrow. "And?"

The goons fidgeted and I gave up. I went back into the tent, grabbing the howling and protesting "senator," walked outside, and tossed him. He landed a good distance away.

And then before anyone can say anything, I pointed at him. "That man is preventing people who need treatment from getting theirs!"

Now, I was in a high-tension location with refugees, injured, capes, powers, and guns. Pointing out a man as someone who was delaying treatment was …

Well.

More than a few people turned to him angry and began to stalk to him. There were more than a few fathers and mothers who'd been hoping to get treatment quickly for their little ones.

"Wait, I was just trying to get treatment myself!" he countered as he stood up.

"You wanted me to stop helping people-!" and then I mumbled out the rest.

In truth, the guy wanted me to perform a long duration surgery with my yargonal for his cancer. The problem there was the fact that one, I didn't want to, and two, I already treated cancer from one of the patients before thinking that it would net me more EXP but it didn't.

This was why I mumbled out the rest quietly. Cancer was a subject people understood, but by making sure that most of the people around me only heard the part where the "senator" wanted me to stop healing people, I turned the people - desperate, hoping to be healed, have suffering loved ones, and generally fearful and needy people - against him.

I growled, even as I snickered inwardly at the hateful glares the man was getting, turned around and entered my tent, but I made sure to call out the next patient.

"And if anyone else tries his shit, then I will break their thigh bone!" I added "angrily."

He was just getting in the way of my EXP grind.

"NEXT!"

I handled one patient after another, healing deep cuts, bleeding wounds, and even some burns from fires that erupted from broken gas pipes. Yargonal couldn't heal any missing limbs, but I did what I could with Yargonal. With my safety ensured as part of the Endbringer Truce, I even summoned more yargonals to heal more people.

People just didn't like being jellied and smeared in the face by wet and bloody tentacles.

After hours and hours of work (babysitting three yargonals in a single tent without any form of entertainment), I was finally done with my share of the healing. Or as the PRT liked to put it: "Truce timing is running out, so get out before we arrest you."

So I did. I unsummoned all of the yargonals and headed to the teleportation center at the heart of the Miami Endbringer Response Relief Camp.

"Excuse me?"

The day was coming to a close, and I was tired enough with a lack of chakra and mana on my part as well as having achieved several levels from healing that I was satisfied with today.

So I was a little miffed when someone called out to me just outside of the teleportation center.

I looked around to see the person calling me out, and I raised an eyebrow when I saw who it was.

It was Chevalier, the leader of the Philadelphia Protectorate team. I only knew about him in this familiar yet strange world because his exploit was something the PHO liked to talk about a lot. He was one of the original Wards, he did this, he did that, and so on and so forth.

"Yes, Chevalier?" I asked, acting cool and irritable as possible.

"I was hoping to know why you …" he stared at me for a second before he stopped. "... Ah. I'm sorry. I think I-I got the wrong person." He nodded and then power walked away from me. I stared after him for a few moments, wondering if I should be amused or insulted at the rate he walked away from me.

"... Bah, whatever," I muttered to myself before turning back to the teleportation center. "Faker here for a ride to Brockton Bay!"

* * *

_Not all is glamorous or glorious on a battlefield; the aftermath of a battlefield is often something you rarely see or experience unless you yourself are the injured one._  
_-author_


	5. Chapter 5

**Case BB2008-93**

**Evidence File:** Victim's Letter, found on desk of warehouse office.

Dear Mom,

How are you doing, mom? Sorry I haven't been able to see you lately. You know how it is serving for the cause and whatnot up here in the north. The winters were cold and spring is no better. I miss the heat of Alabama, I really do. I hate being drenched with cold rain.

I'm healthy as I can be. I am eating a lot so you don't have to worry about that. But it isn't all fun and dandy up here.

Kaiser, bless his heart, is doing his best to keep the people together but the damn government keep on targeting us and not the serial killer demon.

Yeah, apparently, this city has a real demon living here. Figures. Brockton Bay, right?

We call him Faker because it uses other people's face when it attacks. It can change its form at will and summon more of its kind. It has been attacking us for a whole month now, and it is really fucked up. It does shit no one should be going through.

Yesterday, the freak attacked again. It no longer hid behind faces and attacked with recklessness and destructiveness that made the Asian lizard seem tame. But the freak was a literal demon, so maybe he was the stupid one for expecting something else.

It killed Ryan. Do you remember Ryan, ma? We used to play in the beaches during summer when we were high school kids. Ryan died because the freak killed him.

I dont know what to do. If I leave, then more people are going to leave. Then the cause isn't going to be helped.

Ma, what shoul-

_[Rest of the letter is soaked in blood and illegible]_

**-VB-**

**Parahuman Response Team East-North-East**  
**Transcript of meeting between **_PRT ENE Director Emily Piggot, Protectorate ENE Leader Armsmaster, Protectorate ENE Hero Grey Count, Protectorate ENE Hero Miss Militia, and Wards ENE Leader Battery_

**Time of Meeting: 2008.2.2, 1:02 P.M.**  
**Previous Event Before Meeting: **_Miami Endbringer Battle (2008.2.1)_

Director Emily Piggot (E): Alright, so what do we know about Faker?

Leader Armsmaster (A): You intend to use the name the Empire uses?

Battery (B): … Honestly, Faker is a good name for it. Sucks that they got to it before our PR did.

Miss Militia (M): It is a better name than Face-Taker but not as intuitive.

Grey Count (G): I'd rather call him demon, because honestly, the bastard looks demonic.

E: I'm not going to explain why we don't give that kind of names to people. Let's move onto the meeting. We're meeting today to discuss Faker's newly revealed powers and talk about their implications in the city with his war with Empire coming up. Armsmaster, please show us what you've gathered.

A: *darkens room and activates the meeting room's projection* These are the forms Faker arrived with and the more human form he used while he healed people in the aftermath of the Endbringer battle. The former is extremely tough; he took water bullets from the explosion of Leviathan's water shadow and survived with only surface damages.

G: *whistle* That's pretty strong. Brute 6, at the least?

A: I think Brute 5 works better, especially since he is Changer 6.

E: Changer 6?

A: Yes. The full power rating for Faker is Changer 6, sub-Brute 5, sub-Master 5, sub-Striker 5, sub-Stranger 5, sub-Mover 3.

M: That is a lot of ratings.

B: Faker sounds dangerous.

E, A: He is.

A: While it's not well known, Faker seems to focus on attacking only the gangsters and their capes. He shows that he will escalate without provocation, however.

E: He's the one who killed Empire's new recruit.

G: The one that made ghost copies of himself, right?

E: Yes, that one.

G: Rip.

M: Grey.

G: What? A dead Nazi is the only good Nazi.

B: But why didn't we have information on him before this?

A: Because he is never there at the site of battle. He and his projections disappears in smokes if any of them take too much damage. On top of that, he can summon projections that can heal.

E: Can we not persuade him to join the Protectorate? Even with all of the deaths on his head, it can be argued that he was doing public service.

M: Director!

E: A dead Nazi is the only good Nazi.

G: She gets me.

E: Well, Armsmaster?

A: … No. I do not believe so. Faker has shown a willingness to spill unnecessary blood, and his lack of contact with the PRT prior to the Endbringer battle makes him an extremely hard to recruit target on top of being dangerous to associate with.

B: What then?

E: Faker is escalating a war with the Empire. We'll have to step in, but with Lung looking to expand with the damages Empire suffered at the hands of Faker and the Merchants putting out tinkertech drug with their newest cape recruit, we'll intervene only if they step over the line. As bad a gang war is, the Empire won't be attacking anyone who they can't catch.

M: What if the civilians get caught in the battle?

E: The PRT will make an announcement that all civilians should stay away from known gang territories.

A: But Faker has killed civilians in the past.

E: We don't have the manpower nor the means to contain Faker. What should we do? Make a grid by grid search? No, this is Oni Lee situation all over again; we're stuck reacting. I know all of you hate it, and I hate it. But unless we have a Shaker that can lock down Movers like Hardline from Seattle, we're stuck reacting. We're moving on. Battery, how is your … partner?

B: *frowns* he makes too many jokes

**-VB-**

**Alan Marris's Research Journal**

**Experiment: Henge**  
**2008.2.2**

Henge was too useful during the Endbringer battle. It let me fly when I otherwise couldn't have and saved my ass. But I don't exactly know the limits of the henge. I take on the physical properties of whatever I transform myself into. So starting today, I will experiment on Henge's limit.

Attempt 1: Hawk  
Result: Very little chakra usage. I can fly and maneuver like a real hawk, but I seemed to be a bit heavier than a real hawk. Success.

Attempt 2: Soldier  
Result: I did appear as a soldier but I had no equipment on me even when I thought of equipment like guns and grenades on my person. Success.

Attempt 3: Gun (Shadow Clone), Soldier (myself)  
Result: Shadow Clone henged into a gun could fire bullets, but after two bullets, the clone dispelled itself. The bullets disappeared as well but they did damage the concrete wall. Fail.

Attempt 4: Shoggoth  
Result: Body was gooey and slimy. I could control all of the tentacles, but not well. I also saw a phenomenon that wasn't real, but if I could transform into a Shoggoth, which possibly possess paranatural sensory organs, then the phenomenon that I am observing could be real? Moderate success.

Attempt 5: Hookwolf in his wolf form  
Result: Can't move. Definitely things that aren't normal are happening with Hookwolf when he is in wolf form thanks to his power to let him move because I couldn't move. Fail.

Attempt 6: Giatification (2x Volume)  
Result: I keep most of my mobility, but I used a quarter of my chakra reserve. Success.

Attempt 7: Leviathan  
Result: Immediately passed out upon attempt. Note to self: never try that again because I feel like shit right now and have to clean up all of the blood on the first floor. Fail.

Attempt 8: Nightmare (Tager)  
Explanation: Tager is a human capable of changing form into a nightmarish creature from Cthulhutech. I know the ritual and every little detail in making and of Tagers. Unlike Leviathan and Hookwolf, both of whom had physical bodies and powers that I did not possess nor know of, I knew everything about Tagers. I just haven't made one yet because I lack the ritual materials, facilities, and sacrifice necessary to make one. But can I transform into one?  
Nightmare is supposedly very strong, can regenerate better than Lung supposedly can, and have the endurance only Brutes can have.  
Result: Used up ¾ of my reserve, but I am a Nightmare. Too many claws and no head, but I have too many eyes on my chest. Arms are very long, and a single swipe of my clawed hand is enough to pulverize concrete. Success.

**2008.2.3**

Attempt 9: Mirage (Tager)  
Explanation: A Mirage is a Tager that make illusions and fire photon blasts, if it doesn't attack with its clawed tentacles from its back.  
Result: ¾ of my reserve just like the Nightmare. I could use photon blasts and illusions without further chakra use but a separate internal energy source that appeared when I became a Mirage. From what I know, this energy source has to be a Tager's Near-Negentropy Drive (NND) that draws energy from the gaps of the universe.

**2008.2.5**

Field Experiment 10: Attacking E88 as Mirage

Experiment Procedure: I waited until my chakra reserve was fully restored in my Mirage transformation. Then I created two shadow clones in this state. I got two more Mirages as a result. The three me's went out to scout for E88 (because I was running low on cash) and found one of their groups. We went hunting for Nazis and stole everything they had.  
Result: Fought against Krieg, Jumanuber, and Hookwolf. Killed Jumanuber with photon blasts and forced the other two to retreat.

Field Experiment 11: Ran into PRT heroes. Played with them with illusions.  
Result: All except the one that was Grey fought illusions. The grey one saw right through the illusions and made to attack me, but my clones and I dodged his attacks.

**2008.2.5**

Experiment 11: D…

**-VB-**

**2008.2.5 (Alan Marris/Faker)**

I glared at the supercops across the street from me. I hadn't expected to run into them, but here I was, running into them after having raided another E88 base.

"What do you want?" I hissed. My two Shadow Clones, one in the form of Nightmare and the other in the form of Phantom Tagers, stood by my side, ready to act on my mark. On top of that, I hadn't expanded much chakra today, relying nearly all of my abilities on the Tager's natural abilities.

The three Protectorate heroes on the other side of the street didn't say anything for a minute. One of them was Armsmaster, and if he was here, then I didn't doubt for a fact that the man would call for reinforcements in an attempt to stop us.

That was just the kind of feeling I got from him last time I saw him during the Endbringer battle.

"Faker, surrender yourself," Armsmaster demanded.

I just quirked the center mass of the Mirage's body up, the Tager's equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

"No," I hissed out before using my Tager's power to form illusions around us.

A Mirage Tager was capable of making illusions in a wide area centering on itself, but it was limited to individual illusions rather than landscape illusions. I couldn't make the heroes trip over things they couldn't see, but I sure as hell can make it hard for them to shoot me!

Armsmaster immediately rushed me while two others with him - Miss Militia and Grey Count, I believe - took up support roles. Militia in particular took to shooting rubber bullets at me.

Or rather, my illusions.

I switched places with the illusion she shot through, and reared up one of my Mirage's two tentacles up. Light gathered at the clawed tip, and I shot forth a weakened blast of mystical light.

Miss Militia, having been surprised by the illusion, expected the light to be an illusion as well.

And she took the full weakened blast to the chest. She flew back. She tumbled to the ground as she landed and came to a still stop, moving no more after that.

One of three incapacitated in the first two seconds of combat. I was on a roll.

Armsmaster was upon me, or rather one of my illusions, and he swiped at it.

Grey Count shouted something at him, and I had to focus to listen.

"- real one's the one that shot Militia!"

Okay, he found out about that. Let's switch it up.

I appeared on the other side of my copies as my Phantom Shadow Clone clashed with Armsmaster.

"He switched places!" Grey Count shouted again before he had to duck underneath the strike of the Nightmare that had jumped on him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

I switched places agai-.

"He switched!"

… Okay, you're dangerous.

My Nightmare shadow clone seemed to understand Grey Count's dangerous as well. If Grey Count could tell where I was switching to, then my other abilities were also at danger of being exposed. I couldn't have that since the Protectorate wanted me under in jail.

Nightmare - with its headless body and eyes on its chest - screeched and struck to kill. Grey Count rolled to the side, but didn't expect the follow up kick, taking the attack to his hip. He screamed in pain. My Nightmare clone brought its clawed arms up for a finishing strike, but Armsmaster was aware of the battlefield like only a veteran could be aware. He aimed his halberd at the Nightmare and launched some kind of a beam from the bottom of his halberd, striking the Nightmare clone.

The clone screeched and then poofed.

My eyes widened in surprise. When my shadow clones were made with me using a Tager as the base form, then their durability tripled at the least. Whatever Armsmaster shot, it had to be on par with a high-caliber bullet's killing power, because while a real Nightmare Tager might survive such an attack with ease, a shadow clone could not survive an assault rifle.

Grey Count tried to get up, Armsmaster was still fighting off my Phantom while dodging my photon blasts, and there were sure to be reinforcements to be coming. I didn't have enough power to blast through Armsmaster's defence. He was … too well-guarded. The way he shifted himself between me and my clone and his fallen comrades.

Something about that image frustrated me, but instead of continuing the fight, I stopped. Or at least, I did; my shadow clone kept on fighting. I clicked my tongue before breaking my Tager henge - thus losing all of the advantages I got from it - and henged into a bird. Then I flew away while my shadow clone fought til death by Armsmaster's halberd.

As the memories of the Tagerified Shadow Clones filtered into my mind, I grimaced at how weak I was alone. Without proper numbers, I couldn't take on any group in combat.

Flying away from the site of my first loss ever since I arrived in this city, I began to wonder why I wasn't strong enough. I mean, I had all of the powers yet I couldn't put Armsmaster down. That Miss Militia and Grey Count weren't strong.

Armsmaster was strong.

I should be stronger.

I landed on a branch on a tree far away.

'Why couldn't I win?'

I dropped down to an alley and changed into a nondescript woman in baggy jeans, jacket, and a beanie. I walked out without anyone thinking otherwise of me.

As I walked down the street, I couldn't but grit my jaws because I was suddenly reminded of how powerless I felt when I first came to this city. Out of an alley/building fresh from defeat/unwilling transfer.

I brought up my left hand and bit into the fingertips, trying to calm myself down as the memories - of being weak that early morning, feeling the cold wind buffeting my body, and not knowing what to do - returned to me with a vengeance.

'I'm not weak, I'm not weak…!' I thought to myself. 'I'm not powerless. I took down two heroes. I killed a hundred Nazis by now. I'm not weak. I'm not WEAK!'

I walked off into the night, unable to think properly with a fresh retreat and the first hopeless memories of this city haunting my mind. I ignored everyone that stared at me warily.

Then bump.

I stumbled back before looking up.

There was a squad of homeless in front of me with cocky grins.

"What do yall want?" I growled out, putting up an act instinctively in this new body.

"Oh, just to fuck with you a little," the lead hobo drawled out before he reached out. I slapped his hand away.

"The fuck? Get away from me." Not in the mood.

The other homeless began to circle me, and I found myself wondering. What the hell was the reason…

Oh.

They wanted to rape me. I _looked _like a girl to them, and I was alone and clearly not in good shape.

Disgusting fucks. What did they get off on-?

I stopped.

'Get off?'

I blinked and blinked.

'Get off?'

Is… that what I've been doing?

Killing and stealing because … I got off on it?

"We're going to fuck with you a little, get it?" the leader said again as if he was funny.

Broken out of my thoughts, I rolled my eyes and made to swipe at him.

And just before I struck him, watching from the periphery as he brought up a hand to catch my wrist, I broke the henge on my forearm. I didn't henge into someone else, I just broke my henge.

There was a poof and smoke, but just like that, my true form's red skinned, gaunt, and extremely big arm came out of the smoke and slammed into the leader like an accelerating car. His wide eyes and open mouth remained in my vision for a split second before I followed through the half-hearted strike and sent him smashing into the brick wall right next to us on the street.

I heard his bones crack and flesh pop before he slid down.

The other hobos were staring at me in shock before I turned to them.

"As thanks for letting me understand something about myself, I'll make your deaths quick and painless."

I swiped them, claws first, and watched as my claws eviscerated them so easily. I watched their mutilated body parts fall apart and I didn't feel anything bad.

I felt … better.

'I didn't even realize how fucked up I became,' I thought to myself as I henged myself into a bird and flew off again. '"Getting off," huh?'

**-VB-**

**Parahuman Response Team East-North-East**  
**Parahuman Case File: Faker (BB2018-1)**  
**Updated 2008.2.6**

**Appearance:** Faker's real appearance and sex are unknown. The subject is known for their ability to shapeshift at will even during the height of battle. As such, designating a gender, sex, or appearance to the subject is ill-advised as it may lead to misconceptions regarding the subject which may prove to be detrimental in the field.

**Personality/Behavior:** Faker is mildly annoying. They do not respect authority, seeking either to mock authority figures or to flee before they are seen. Against other villains and criminals, however, Faker is extremely violent, kleptomaniac, and murderous. Out of five known encounters Faker has been involved with criminals, he has killed criminals and cape villains in all five encounters.  
Note: Latest encounter Faker had with Protectorate ENE resulted in a battle where Faker incapacitated two heroes with ease while attacking them with parahuman abilities. It is recommended that Faker's status as "non-hostile cape" towards PRT be altered to "hostile" towards PRT.

**Encounter Procedure:** Do not engage alone. If no reinforcement can arrive within five minute mark, then retreat to a safe location. Faker is an extremely dangerous individual whose combat capabilities are not completely known. They can make projections of themselves, all of which can use their parahuman abilities, so any solo engagement will end unfavorably.

**Parahuman Threat Rating:**  
Changer 6 (Brute 5, Blaster 4, Shaker 4, Stranger 4)  
Master 4 (Thinker 3)

**Subject's Known Non-Parahuman Abilities:**  
Strategy: ?, Tactic: B, Close-Quarter Combat: C, Long-Range Combat: ?, Crowd Control: A

**Significant Events Involved In:**  
-Injuring of Grey Count, Miss Militia (Protectorate ENE, 2008.2.5)  
-Death of Crusader (Empire Eighty-Eight, 2008.1.26), Awebermansch (E88, 2008.2.4)

**-VB-**

**2008.2.5 (Alan Marris/Faker)**

By the time I made it home, the sun had set long ago and the city, especially the part of the city where my abandoned-building-turned-hideout was, fell in darkness with the sun. I landed just inside of the Bounded Field I set up around the building and walked in through the door.

One of the safety features I added as part of the hideout security was how I made sure that any entry via windows would alert everyone inside the building with very unpleasant tingles that would wake them up instantly.

When I walked up the stairs to the second floor, I found myself widening my eyes in surprise.

She was there waiting for me.

Rebecca. The single mom that I paid to fuck and then used her desperation to make her my fuck toy.

'Get off on.'

Did I get off on … dominating her?

…

I did.

I wanted to grimace but I didn't.

"You waited for me," I asked instead.

Rebecca nodded. "I … thought you might want dinner."

I looked at the table near the kitchen table, and I saw that there were two seats pulled out.

"... Thanks."

After changing myself to the human form which she was most familiar with, I sat down on the chair designated clearly for me by the larger portions. I watched her sit down, and she prayed.

Ha! I found it too ironic. She, someone cursed with being chained to a demon, prayed.

…

I could respect that.

She fiddled with her fingers.

"Yes?"

Being nicer to her couldn't hurt.

"W-What would happen if I became pregnant?"

My hand that was just reaching for the fork froze. I slowly looked up at her with wide eyes.

"What?"

She looked a little scared.

"W-We're not having a-any kind of safe s-sex, and you really um… get me to do it a lot," she replied nervously. "I…" she gulped. "I wanted to know what would happen if I get pregnant."

My mind blanked for a moment before I slowly got up. I walked around the table while Rebecca grew increasingly nervous. "A-Alan?"

Why did she not hate me? There was no hate in the way she talked to me. Instead of asking me if I was going to abandon her like Steven's father did, she opened herself up without scorn that should have been there.

"Of course, we'll raise any of our children together."

Possessive. I was not a little mildly possessive of what I considered mine. I was like that in my past life and being a demon didn't help me with tempering that greed.

"Let's eat first before we talk."

She nodded hastily. The talk was uncomfortable for her, I saw, but I didn't feel uncomfortable. As I sat down and picked up the fork again to dig into the mashed potatoes and stir fry Rebecca made, I couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't uncomfortable.

Rebecca was my bedwarmer, not my lover. She was a _slave_ in the best terms possible. Spoken at worst, she was a property tied to a demon by a magical curse that would cause her a very painful and prolonged death if she ever betrayed me.

So why did I feel … satisfied in knowing that I would sooner or later impregnate Rebecca and why did I say "our children"?

I didn't love her, though I was growing very fond of her. There was no self-sacrifice in me that I would perform for Rebecca. She was strictly _mine_ and I intended to keep it that way.

'It isn't love,' I thought to myself in satisfaction, having figured out the mystery. 'She was mine and that was that.'

'Get off on.'

So why was that phrase still bothering me when I solved the mystery of what I was?


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Answering some questions, and thank you for taking the time to write up a review with your questions. _

_Thief. I just wanted a thief. I know that it is the current trend in writing for everyone to choose wizard, but honestly? I am kind of sick of wizards. Secondly, before I wrote the story, I thought about what kind of "LATE GAME" character the SI would become. _

_As for the slow growth of SI, he is doing the MMORPG equivalent of farming EXP from low level mobs. Outside of capes, no one is on his "level," so the EXP he gains is also low. Don't worry, he will be LvL 100 by the time canon hits. For those of who are unaware of what that feels like (the grind), then check out Doubleagent, World of Warcraft's pacifist panda._

**-VB-**

**2008.2.7**

I went out hunting but found none of my usual prey.

It probably had to do with how "voracious" I have been in hunting down villains and their gangsters, and it was definitely for the better. I knew what I was: a serial killer with no remorse and rules. I killed because it gave me EXP to strengthen myself. I was the literal definition of carnage, because I was indiscriminate as long as my victims were criminals.

Stupid bystanders with cameras or phones standing within a hundred feet of a cape fight did not count as civilians.

Un-Henged as I was, or without any transformation, I should have been sighted by just about everyone, but I was not.

The reason?

I was a Thief, and at level 5, I gained a passive ability called Cloak and Dagger. As long as I did not move after activating any kind of invisibility, then I would remain invisible even if the initial invisibility spell had a time limit.

It was a neat ability, and that was why I was able to observe all of the Docks South, one of the most gang contested areas of the city, without being seen for long period of time.

But again, I've already told myself that there was no prey. No ABB or E88 gangsters or their capes were out and about.

They were all hiding.

'It's a good thing I have clones hunting outside of the city.'

Ping.

I looked up at the screen that appeared and hummed appreciatively learning that I got another level. I put that in the Obyrith racial class. The other three levels I got and the one level I got yesterday, I put into the Thief job class, which netted me the "Cloak and Dagger."

My reasoning was thus: any class with only one or two levels was a waste of level, so since I already had a Thief job class, I boosted that up to LvL 5 and the rest would go into Obyrith.

[Obyrith Racial Class has reached LvL 3. +50% Greater Control over Demonic Kin.]

No new spells or skills, but it was sweet nonetheless.

…. But seriously, where were all of the criminals of Brockton Bay?

"I know that I haven't killed that many of you," I mumbled to myself, which didn't break the Cloak and Dagger's effect because I wasn't moving from my current position.

…

…

It was so fucking boring.

Was there a club that I can explore? A good one?

Hmm… Didn't the Faultline's Crew have a club? The Palanquin or something like that? Ugh, but what if they had a Thinker on hand and they saw me? Grey Count could see right through a goddamn Mirage's illusions, so I couldn't put it offhand. I supposed that I couldn't just show up.

… But what if I was establishing contact with them? Like I went to their club to not hang out but to have "business" with them and just hang out afterward? Yes, that was a good plan.

I broke out of the invisibility and henged into a bird, and then I flew off towards the Palanquin.

Birds were quickly becoming my favorite animal.

**-VB-**

From above, the club looked no different from all other clubs out there. It probably helped Faultline's Crew to keep it that way; while they certainly did not go out of their way to advertise the club's connection to them because despite being "mercenaries," they were still classified as villains and thus any business that associated with them openly would find itself at the business end of the PRT's containment foams.

When I landed in front of the Palanquine and transitioned my henge into my human appearance, the late afternoon club-goers and the bouncer immediately noticed me, and they all tensed. I doubted that most people in Brockton Bay knew about me like they knew about Kaiser, but from the way the bouncer's face paled and a sleek sheen of cold sweat broke out on his forehead, it was clear that he knew who I was.

And didn't that make me giddy.

I smiled genially. "I'm here to talk with the manager of the Palanquine."

Slow,y the bouncer reached for the phone, unclipped it from the secured phone holder on his belt, quick-dialed a number, and brought it up to his face. "Umm. Manager? We have … the Faker asking for you. Yes. He transformed right in front of me from a hawk into a twenty year old white male without a domino mask. I'm assuming that what I am seeing is not his real face."

"It could be, but you would never know," I interjected, continuing to wait politely and not barging in. I wanted to enjoy the establishment, and making trouble would not bring me fun later. It would start with a stuffy meeting and end there.

"Yes, manager. I'll let him in." With that, the phone call ended. He stepped aside and opened the door for me.

I walked forward, never dropping my smile, but once I passed the threshold of the doors and they closed behind me, I heard someone collapsing on their knees.

Ignoring that little tidbit, I moved deeper into the corridor before I emerged out of it into a dark and very neon-y club. There were lights everywhere but the music was nowhere as loud as it could be.

It was here that I saw a second bouncer, who seemed to have been waiting for me.

"This way, sir," he said politely with a small bow. "Madam awaits for you."

"Sure. Lead the way."

We moved around the club's main floor, climbed a flight of stairs to the second floor overlooking the main floor, and into a room that led away from the club's main attractions and bars. The second bouncer opened the door, and I stepped inside.

Within the room were three capes: an orange lizard-like Case-53, a slug-like Case-53, and the leader of the crew's namesake herself, Faultline.

What should I do?

Greet them friendly

Greet them formally

Greet them rudely

Silence

I thought about it. 'Hmm. B, it is.'

From what I knew about Faultline herself, she was reported to be a very strict, formal, and business-like villai - I'm sorry, "mercenary."

"Good afternoon, Miss Faultline," I said with a smile. "And you two must be… Gregor and Newter."

"You've heard of us?" Gregor asked with a smile.

"Of course. How can I not hear about the heist three mercenaries made upon the Toybox?" I replied. "And it is why I am here."

"To buy those from us?" Faultline asked.

"No, no, no. Tinkertech comes and goes," I replied. "They are useful only in the instance that they were designed for and nothing more. No, I came here for something for more sublime: a pact." When they didn't say anything, I continued. "You and your allies here are not just powerful together but also smart. You have yet to interfere with any gangs in the city, but if someone were to hire you out, that may change."

Faultline interrupted me there. "It would be stupid of us to mess with our city of operation," she said.

"But not when there is something great enough to be gained."

"... What are you here for?"

"As I have stated, ma'am: a pact. I wish to establish a non-aggression pact with you."

She stared at me for a second. "And why would I want that?" she asked.

"Because as far as I am concerned, you are villains, and I hunt villains." The mood tensed immediately, and Gregor and Newter bent their knees just a fraction. "But seeing as you are here and not under assault from my projections wearing various eldritch visages with abilities ranging from near-immortality, agonizing pain upon touch, and the like… I think you understand where this is going?"

Faultline herself had tensed but wasn't moving. She seemed to ponder without moving before she nodded.

"Your method of hunting is Stranger," she remarked. "We would never see you coming."

"And the lady understands," I praised.

Newter seemed a little confused. "Wait, I thought he was a Master."

"He is," Faultline replied. "And from what I heard, he is also Striker, Blaster, Shaker, Mover, Brute, and Stranger. The only things that he is not are Tinker and Trump."

I would not correct her on her misconception.

Gregor, despite his initial relaxed and friendly demeanor, looked nervous. Newter did, too, but Faultline did not.

"What are your terms?" she asked.

I clapped my hands once softly. "Wonderful. The non-aggression pact would mean that you would not take any kind of contracts aimed at me or any of my operations and enterprises. You are not obligated to tell me if such contracts come your way. I would, of course, stay out of your operations and would not conspire to remove you, a neutral party, from the city."

Faultline seemed to think about it. "Add in a clause about compensations in case of accidental attacks as well as a five year duration of the pact."

"Of course."

I pulled out a paper and pen from my inventory and got down to writing it. Both of us reviewed the wording and sentences for over an hour.

Of course, this contract was a Geis contract. As long as either of us were alive, it would reinforce itself until the date stated. We both signed it, and the paper glowed before making a copy of itself right in front of us. I handed her a copy, and she took it.

"Now, would you mind if I enjoyed the hospitalities of your club tonight?" I asked her.

Faultline shrugged. "Go ahead, but know that if you cause a scene or use your powers for unsavory reasons…"

I raised my hands up. "Of course, of course." Then I bowed. "By your leave?"

She waved me away and I walked out.

With the minor business dealt with, I had bigger fish to fry.

The club.

I walked down the stairs, assuming a different face and form. Instead of the lean built, smiling businessman facade, I opted for something more along the lines of my biological body's age; I stood at the bottom of the staircase as a young man in his early twenties Caucasian in black and blue business casual. I slicked my brown hair back and grinned cockishly. This transformation took on a bulkier and athletic form; if I weighed myself right now, then I would be around hundred eighty pounds with less than 10% body fat. It was a body that wasn't chiseled by any means, but it was actually closer to what I built my body to look like before I came to this city.

It was only after I got near the dance floor that I completely forgot about who I was.

I didn't know how to dance.

'Fuck,' I thought dejectedly as I smoothly moved away from the dance floor and towards the bar. I sat down in front of it. The bartender came up to me and greeted me. I just ordered something simple, and watched. I paid for it and watched the slowly increasing crowd.

Unfortunately, no one caught my eyes.

"Argh," I mumbled to myself before leaving the club. "Waste of my time."

**-VB-**

Throughout the next two months, I continued to kill, loot, and steal from gangsters not just in Brockton Bay but all around New England. February greeted March with a bit of warmth. March turned to April and then gave away to warmer May. May turned to hot June. July came with rain and sweltering heat, and August came, crawled, and cooled.

I wiped out smaller gangs with ease. Gangs with only one cape found themselves targeted until they went underground or outright turned themselves into the police for their own safety.

I became the stuff of nightmares for the villains. And unknowable danger that crawled in the streets with the faces of others. An unknown variable whose powers weren't fully understood despite the internet denizen's attempts at figuring my powers out.

I became the Villain Killer, an unsettling entity in New England cape scene that hunted down villains silently and mercilessly, leaving behind bloody scenes of my victims always.

Killing that many villains, new and experienced, gave me a lot of accumulated experience. I maxed out my Thief job class and Obyrith racial class. Thinking about combining the racial classes and job classes together for better efficiency, I got a job called Enchanter, which allowed me to enchant objects with magic and spells. The best thing about this job was that - in combination with Obyrith's racial and Thief's job spells that was focused on causing pain and draining life respectively - I could combine the abilities into "effigies" and "totems" in my image that I could set down in an area and it would affect everyone in a certain radius of those who saw the effigies. Or, in my case, graffitis.

In essence, I created memetic graffiti that leached the vitality and EXP of those who looked at the graffiti but did not move out of the memetically enchanted wall tattoos' area of effect. Each individual lost only a little EXP but I had graffitied the entire city, county, and beyond.

Altogether, I gained a lot of EXP passively.

By the time it was August, I was gaining nearly one thousand EXP per day.

**-VB-**

**2008.8.3**

Rebecca moaned into my shadow clone's dick in her mouth as I pistoned in and out of her vagina, shaking both her swollen belly and boobs erratically. Spitroasted between a shadow clone and myself, Rebecca performed her duties as my "servant" despite being pregnant.

My grip on her waist was iron tight while my clone gripped her hair into two bundles, essentially giving it two handles to piston itself into her mouth, slamming into her throat mercilessly while the ginger gagged and moaned with each thrust. I slammed into Rebecca's pussy from the other end, having given her no rest with three shadow clones having used her raw pussy before I came to finish the job.

The shadow clone climaxed before me, slamming the full length of its dick down Rebecca's mouth and throat, and Rebecca gagged as she slapped his thighs weakly. For full four seconds, the clone held its position there, squirting all it was worth deep into her throat before it popped.

The memory of climaxing struck my mind like a sledgehammer, and pushed me over the edge.

I pushed her hips into the air as I mating-pressed her and slammed down as I kissed her, tasting myself and her on her lips and in her mouth.

Delirious, a little oxygen-deprived, and high from near constant gangbang she'd endured, Rebecca's only response to my real hot ejaculation, semen and sperm alike that didn't disappear with the pop of a clone, was to moan with her eyes rolled over in her head and wrapping her arms and legs weakly around me. I pulled out of her, and saw her legs and arms flop to the bed.

She laid there gasping and reveling in the carnal highs, but I hadn't had enough yet.

I positioned myself by hooking her thighs over my arms and plunged right back into her again, eliciting soft moans from her. I used her pussy like a fuck toy, and she laid there, taking it from me. Her cum-stained pussy weakly squeezed her as I pistoned in and out of her.

I watched her boobs and belly bounce up and down as she moaned out my name. Rebecca hiccuped and moaned as I further shaped her pussy to the shape of my dick, but her small stature ensured that no matter how many times I used her, she would always be a little too small - and thus always tight. The weekly doses of minor healing I gave her to keep her in "top shape" ensured she remained tight as well.

Finally, I pulled out of her, and watched in satisfaction as Rebecca fell immediately unconscious after nearly three hours of intense non-stop sex.

She'd be complaining about dehydration once she woke up.

I stared down at her thoroughly wet and white-stained pussy as well as her shakily breathing, sweaty, and pregnant body. Her face was in a state of post-sex ecstasy, sleeping yet still high and delirious.

I chuckled as I pumped my own dick for the last of it, and cummed on her face, watching as my cum squirted out and painted her unconscious face.

It was perfect.

**-VB-**

But as perfect as it was, it left me a bit … unhappy. Rebecca was approaching the end of her second trimester of pregnancy. Once she was in her third trimester, I had to abstain from sex with her lest we hurt the baby or cause early contraction from my dick slamming into her cervix and triggering said contraction.

In essence, I would be left to hang and dry until she gave birth and then another month for her to recover from said birthing.

And I did not intend to just limit myself to fucking Rebecca's mouth for that long. I needed another woman to fuck until Rebecca was ready.

That said, as great as sex was, it was not my priority.

No, my current priority was finally filling the vacuuming that I had created with my ceaseless murder, raiding, and elimination of villains and gangsters.

To do that, I needed manpower, and I have been preparing for that exact thing for the past six months.

Because I hadn't been just fucking Rebecca while my clones did all of the work outside.

No, I did something far more productive (but I still did fuck Rebecca a lot).

I researched into three powers I had but hadn't used much.

My powers could be divided into two categories: physical and mental. Ninjutsu and the Gamer were physical powers. They affected my body significantly and altered them as they evolved.

The three powers, however, were mental and required extensive research to use properly.

They were Thaumaturgy, Cthulhutech, and Splicers.

Thaumaturgy, I have used before in the form of Geis, but I didn't use much more than that.

So in these past six months since I made the non-aggression pact with Faultline, I researched and experimented whenever I was not fucking Rebecca.

_The power of Shadow Clones!_

My research and experimentation focus had been on Cthulhutech so far. Combined with my Geis from Thaumaturgy, any kind of abomination I could make would be held under my complete control.

But there was a problem with Cthulhutech's esoteric … "technologies." They required human subjects.

Then it's great that I had been "killing" many of my gangster victims, yes?

Yes. I certainly did not "abscond" or "kidnap" hundreds and hundreds of criminals and their families to be experimented on, killed, and put together through mindbreaking and reality bending means. Yes, nothing like that happened.

That said, in the six months that I have been experimenting, I only achieved one reproducible technology so far.

Tagers.

The Mirage form I took to fight Armsmaster was actually a Tager, and I learned how to "gift" other humans the means to take upon other Tager forms.

To that end, I was on the first floor in one of the soundproofed and completely sealed rooms. Within it was a ritual circle and multiple vials ready to be consumed by the "volunteers."

Volunteers who had all agreed to sign the Geis I had offered to each of them to put an end to the "humane" and definitely not torturous and unnecessary experimentations they had gone under.

So they laid there, completely aware but incapable of moving because I told them not to move.

The power of Geis was too flexible and great for me to not abuse it.

I stood over them with the vials in my hands, and I knelt down, draining a vial into each of their open mouths.

"Swallow."

And they did.

And they screamed as the essence reacting to the magic ritual happening beneath them.

I smiled gleefully as they transformed for the first time into their new Tager forms. My first three Phantoms came into existence, and I laughed.

**-VB-**

**2008.8.10, Armsmaster**

"{Dispatch to Armsmaster, Faker has been spotted near northern Downtown South.}"

He immediately winked to activate his helmet's HUD for radio.

"Armsmaster to dispatch," he spoke. "I am on my way. E.T.A three minutes."

"{Acknowledged.}"

He quickly sped up his motorcycle after turning on the PRT siren. He sped down the street of Downtown proper.

"{Dispatch to Armsmaster, Faker has attacked a commercial building. Reports of Empire Eighty-Eight members armed with automatic weapons are coming in.}" Armsmaster gritted his teeth as he pushed his motorcycle to go faster. "{Faker has reinforcements. Three nearly identical looking humanoids each seven feet tall with claws.}"

2 minute and 1 second left!

"{A bystander is streaming the fight online.}"

"Send me the link, now!"

The link arrived and he opened it up.

He watched from the corner of his eyes as Faker dropped down on an E88 member, crushing him to death. His reinforcements, nearly identical as the report indicated, rushed in and charged into the automatic weapon fire as if they were pebbles.

Correction, they were taking surface damage but nothing more. They regenerated from the attacks and reached the E88 gangsters.

Their claws skewered the gangsters with each-.

-and then they didn't. One of the gangsters took a hit to the chest that should have seen his chest caving in. Instead, the gangster bounced away from the force of the attack, struck a brick wall with his head, and got back up.

Another gangster joined the fight, running out of the building on a running sprint.

Faker screeched something and the E88 gangster that just ran out of the building crumbled to the floor, screaming as he clutched his head. One of the clawed monsters tried to kill him but then failed.

The previous invulnerable gangster suddenly wasn't. He got skewered and then beheaded.

'E88 has a new Trump!' Armsmaster quickly theorized and pushed his bike faster. If he could get there fast enough, then he can arrest them and bring them in!

Then he watched Faker disappear and reappear on top of the building. He smashed his fists down and Armsmaster's heart dropped as that punch put a hole through.

'He realized the same thing,' Armsmaster realized. If one had enough brain cells, then it was something easy to realize especially if they had an overview of the battlefield, but for Faker to realize it so fast was astonishing. He made a note to add additional Thinker rating if future conflicts with the villain showed supernatural mental prowess.

The E88 gangsters outside scrammed as they lost members too quickly.

Only 1 minute and 15 seconds away!

Then Faker flew out of the building with a costumed woman under his arm. The three monstrous minions saw him and quickly fled the scene, and Faker flew away.

Armsmaster growled as he arrived at the scene in only forty-nine seconds, only twenty seconds too late.

**-VB-**

_Overlord(Maruyama) Stats_  
_August 10, 2008_

**_Alan Marris "Faker"_**  
_Racial Levels:_  
_Lesser Demon 15_  
_Obyrith 10_

_Job Classes:_  
_Thief 15_  
_Enchanter 15_

**-VB-**

_A/N: Working on a new commission!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you to my pat-reons!_  
Alexander S, **Kejmur**, DefineitlyNotDio

-VB-

**2008.8.17**

Staring at the unconscious Nazi cape in front of me, I restrained myself from doing, not until she woke up.

I stared at this new Nazi cape, someone whose existence I only knew about because my Empire Eighty-Eight infiltrator shadow clone alerted me to her existence.

Her power was useful - giving those who she touched a power among a list of powers available to her but could not apply any of these powers to herself - but that was not what made me kidnap her.

Hell, killing her wouldn't even give me a lot of EXP. On average, most new villain capes that I killed in New England seemed to give me around 200 EXP, which was only ten times the EXP I gained from killing regular mooks. Torturing her might get me some more, but torture chamber was an expensive. I had to do everything from cleanup to actual torture itself and that took shadow clones or myself from more useful work. And I was not going to have Rebecca cleanup torture chambers. Just no.

EXP was not what I was after with her, though. I wanted to feel … better. I wanted to feel in control and dominant.

It was at moments like these that I knew that I was no longer human. Before coming to this world, I knew that I was a good person. I broke no serious law even when I wanted to and no one was looking. I would have never done things like I have done to Rebecca or started killing en masse like I was doing.

Things that I now took joy in.

As I stared at this cape called Othala in anticipation, I could not feel anything subjectively bad about what I intended to do to her, but I knew that what I did to her soon was objectively bad.

I was - objectively speaking - now a bad person.

But how did I get here?

How did things like prostitution, enforced servitude, murder, massacre, systemic farming of human suffering, and what I intended to do not affect me anymore?

It took me not too long to pin the reason down.

My racial classes.

They were affecting my perspectives. More specifically, my reasoning on morality changed. Ever since I took the decision to become a Lesser Demon, my morality on all subjects twisted little by little. Each level to my Lesser Demon and then the Obyrith racial classes didn't just give me power but also altered my mindset and reasoning process.

Oddly enough, there were some rules I still had (or were they fetishes?).

For example, I-.

Oh, the new Neo-Nazi cape was waking up.

She startled on the spot, seeing me in my full Obyrith form. I didn't react. She kept on looking around, trying to find something.

Except there wasn't. She was right now in the only prison chamber in all of my base. It was barebones as it was small and boring. At least, it was heated and there was a working toilet on the side.

"Hello, little woman."

Her lips trembled and she sobbed.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm here to make a deal with you."

If anything, then that made her sob more.

"Don't worry. If you don't want to make a deal, then I will hand you over to the PRT. I'm sure you will enjoy their hospitality more than mine, but you must at least hear me out~!" I crooned as I clasped my hands together and rubbed them like a sleazy salesman.

From the outside, a tall demon sat stooped with his hands rubbing together while he grinned and the woman across from him sobbed as she looked at him. It was a bad scene.

It was going to get so much worse.

"So," I said as I pulled out a single piece of paper. The paper was a Geis Contract. "This is a magical contract that, if you sign it, makes you into a property of mine. If you don't sign this, then I will leave you in this chamber. I will come again in three weeks and ask you to sign it again. This process will repeat for three months. If you don't sign it at the end of those three months, then I will release you to the PRT untouched and unharmed."

"T-Then I don't want to sign it…!"

I sighed. "Very well. It just means that you will be by yourself in this room for months at a time. I suppose that is up to you," I said before I teleported myself outside.

-VB-

Did I mention that the prison chamber had no exit? The only thing that connected it to the rest of my base was a very thin vent at the center of the chamber's ceiling.

Isolation drives humans mad because they are social creatures. It was hardwired into the human mind to be social and the lack of social contact was perceived by the body as danger.

The Nazi cape in my prison wouldn't be able to last a month. She would beg me to sign it.

This … this was what turned me on. Dangling the illusion of choice in front of my victims and then getting them to submit themselves to me.

It was what I did to Rebecca.

It was what I will do to the new girl (whose name I still did not know).

I think it's my new kink.

**-VB-**

I changed my form back to my original human form and walked into the second story. I was greeted by pregnant Rebecca preparing lunch. She saw me and her eyes widened. "Oh, I didn't expect you to be back so soon," she replied hesitantly.

"The Nazi girl rejected the deal," I replied as I walked up to her, wrapped my arms around her from behind and leaned down. Knowing what I wanted, she faced up and leaned into me, meeting my lips with her lips. It was a chaste kiss compared to a lot of things we've done, but I was fine with it.

"I …" she hesitated to speak. "I thought you might have gotten bored of me."

"I'm not." And I truly haven't. "Would you like for me to show you?"

Her breathing grew shallower and she gripped the back of my hands with hers.

"... Yes."

We kissed each other again as I began to strip her.

**-VB-**

**2008.9.1**

Over the last two weeks, I spent a lot of time grinding and researching. My Thaumaturgy wasn't advanced at all. I was barely getting the hang of Formalcraft, which was the usage of ambient mana to fuel rituals. It was like one of the most basic things, and I was having trouble with it.

My Cthulhutech research and implementation was going better only because I had more innate knowledge of it.

My ninjutsu was getting better. I can use earth techniques far easier, so I was focusing on reinventing earth techniques like Dark Swamp, hiding in the earth, and mud wall. I can fire mud shots from my mouth but it left a rather peculiar taste.

I also got a new level from the incessant "farming" of criminals and villains, and used it to get a new racial class that had a Thief job class and Lesser Demon racial class requirement: Cleptocissor. It was a weird racial class that didn't change my appearance but allowed me to transform any part of my body to and from shadows, even in bright daylight.

First off, it was a "supplement" racial class; a quick overview of the racial class showed me exactly three skills I could gain from it: "Stealing from Dark" at LvL 1, "Melding with Shadows" at LvL 5, and "Shadow-Walk" at LvL 10. Other levels in the Cleptocissor racial class gave me the option to improve cooldown, range, and mana usage of each ability.

"Melding with Shadows" allowed me to conceal myself in any shade or shadow. As long as shadows touched, I could move back and fro with ease.

"Stealing from Dark" allowed me to push my hand into shadows to another shadow (or where there was an absence of light) and take things that could fit into my hand.

"Shadow-Walk" was a completely weeb ability. It let me walk between shadows with a limit on how much I could travel being dependent on my mana. Unlike "Stealing from Shadow," my whole body had to travel to get the effect to show. It wasn't a portal ability.

"Melding" and "Shadow-Walk" were utilitarian abilities.

"Stealing from Dark" was something else. I tested it extensively after realizing that there was no limitation on what I could steal as long as I could hold it in my hand. Of course, I tested "Stealing from Dark" with boxes and corners. It was a very useful trick, but eventually, I had to test it out against people.

**-VB-**

I stared down at the ABB gangster twitching on the ground from a rooftop in the dark while my hand clutched a bleeding heart in front of me. All around the dying gangster were other gangsters looking around in fear.

"I see. Absence of light within the body cavity works in my favor," I noted as I dropped the heart onto the rooftop like trash, reverting my red and giant Obyrith hand back into a human one. The heart splattered on the rooftop floor. Now that I saw a heart like this, it was no different from any other meat.

Scruff. Clink clink.

Hearing the noise, I whirled around and saw -.

My eyes widened.

A man stood not too far from me with a red demon mask, armored in sleeveless vest, decked out in combat knives, katana, and grenades.

Oni Lee!

And then I saw what was on the ground.

Grenades. Without their pins.

I covered my face with my arms, releasing the henge on myself.

Just as the Oni Lee in front of me crumbled into dust, the grenades exploded.

The explosion rocked my world and I found myself flying backward. I beat my wings, flying high into the sky, only to be shot in the wings by an assortment of gunfire. I looked down and saw that the gangsters were the ones shooting at me.

For a split second, I thought about what I should do.

'Bah, who am I kidding?' I thought to myself. 'I'm going to kill them all!'

Just then, Oni Lee appeared in front of me.

More grenades.

"I'm going to fucking ki-!" I snarled even as I flew backward, beating my wings heavily, but Oni Lee clone latched itself to me. The grenades went off, and I fell down towards the ground, missing a wing. My regeneration was not face enough for the wing to grow back within five seconds, so I instead brought my hands together. "HENGE!" With a puff of smoke, I changed from a wounded demon to a hawk. I took off, flying as fast as my new wings could carry me high into the moonless night sky.

Bullets wheezed around me, one even whistling right above my head.

Then they stopped firing, but I kept on flying for a little more.

'That was close,' I thought as I looked over my avian shoulder, seeing through the hawk's eyes as the ABB gangsters quickly ran away from the scenes while several blocks away, police cars were swiftly closing in on the location.

As close as the fight had been and it was the only one where I had been ambushed like that, I learned something knew.

First, I could lose. I did lose. I retreated from this fight.

Second, my "Stealing from Dark" was extremely useful.

I made my way back to base, and quickly made more shadow clones. These clones went out, eager to use Stealing.

**-VB-**

**2008.9.2**

With three slave-tagers, my available manpower was greater than what it used to be within Brockton Bay itself. Shadow Clones may be great and all, but their usage was limited by the chakra they held and how much they crippled me.

Having more Tagers to reduce my need to use Shadow Clones would ensure that I could do better things with more like-minded bodies that could think like researching and experimenting.

To do that, I found myself roaming the streets of Brockton Bay, trying to find good targets to kidnap and torture until they broke and signed the Geas contracts I would make for them.

Hell, depending on how desperate my targets were, I wouldn't even need to torture them. Power itself was a powerful incentive. There had to be those who wanted power to rival capes badly enough that they would literally sell their souls.

I licked my lips in anticipation of meeting those who were that foolish.

So I explored the seedy underside of Brockton Bay, coming across members of the underworld who were all too skittish, because they feared that I, the Faker, would appear out of nowhere and kill them.

To be truthful, they weren't wrong; I still had two shadow clones who were doing just that over at Manchester, New Hampshire and another one down at Boston having fun getting more experience out of torturing Teeth members out in the public, which dragged my "Karmic Value" but also granted a lot of miniscule EXP.

Karmic Value was a concept within my Gamer power that I hadn't seen much before. There weren't many descriptions about it, but it did have a game mechanic modifier that was attached to it.

Karmic Value, or KV, determined how my actions and words were understood and interpreted. It was essentially a reputation system. I didn't think much of it, but each change to it seemed to give me EXP.

Of course, my shadow clones were doing it wearing different costumes and acting differently from myself. There was no need to get a coalition of villains to come after me this early. Perhaps when I was LvL 100 or something and had a sturdy base to fall back on, I might encourage a coalition - maybe even as the main "leader" of the coalition - to form against me, and get -

*sniffle*

I stopped.

'My Victim Senses are tingling,' I joked internally before actually honing in on the source of the sound. I looked around, noticing that no one else had heard the noise, and slipped into the alley where I heard it. My trenchcoat - existing only because of my henge - flapped in the wind while my fedora - also henge - blocked the wind from brushing my eyes. I walked, turned, and twisted deeper into the dark and increasingly dirtier alley before I made a final turn and came across a teenage boy sitting on a plastic milk box. Shade cast by the surrounding buildings hid most of his face and upper body, but not the recently dirtied and damaged jeans and shirt below his chest level.

He saw me and quickly stood up. "W-What'd you want?" he asked, even as he tried to scruff the tear marks on his dirty face.

I merely tilted my head. "What are you sad about, boy?" I asked.

He frowned. "None of your goddamn business. Get the fuck out," he growled out, advancing on me menacingly.

It would have been menacing if he wasn't so scrawny, short, and sad.

He hesitated as he got close to me, but quickly rallied and reeled a punch. He saw that I wasn't moving, and hesitated again before he finally threw the punch.

His fist met my henged appearance and did jackshit.

[-0]

"Weak," I snorted.

Ugly anger sprung up on his face, and he tried to deck me in the face. I let it hit me again.

[-0]

"So why were you crying?" I asked. "It's not unmanly to admit that something makes you sad."

He stepped backward before he cringed.

"Y-You're a cape," he said, horrified. "I just hit you in the nose."

He did?

"It felt no different from a fly landing there," I replied casually.

He turned and tried to run away, but I was suddenly in front of him with a [Teleportation] spell. He stumbled back and then fell on his ass on the dirty alley ground.

I focused on the shivering white teenager in front of me, taking in all of the details that I didn't have the chance to make out in the shade that had been hiding his features from me.

Even as he laid there trembling in fear, I saw something in his eyes that set him apart from the three criminals I used to make my Tagers.

Unlike the three criminals who had given up on the spot and begged for mercy, his eyes were still looking for a way out.

It was annoying. A street rat like him believed that he still had the chance to get away from a demon like myself.

It was ignorant.

But … I could use that.

"I can grant you power, boy," I said as I leaned down a bit towards him. This time, it was I who was shrouded in shadows. I used this to my advantage by undoing my henge above where the light was touching my body - causing my wings to shudder as they appeared out of nowhere and my height to shoot up - and then transforming myself into my Cleptocissor affected form. My wings and and body where the henge had broken transformed into a gaseous shadow thick enough to obscure vision beyond but not dense enough to give the impression that there was something solid there.

I was solid, just not right now.

Then I used "Stealing from Dark" to reach into his chest cavity and hold his heart in my hand.

He froze and slowly looked up at me.

"I can grant you powers to fight the likes of Miss Militia, Oni Lee, or Krieg head-on. Do you not want a power like that?" I asked him before releasing my grip on his heart.

"I… I can use that power however I want?" he asked me shakily.

"Of course! But I would have you pay me for it."

He gulped, his focus now entirely on me. "W-What would the price be if I … if I wanted to use that power however I wanted for a week?"

I used a minor fire spell to make two embers next to my eyes, and the light unnaturally reflected off of my grinning maw.

"Your soul."

He seemed to look at me incredulously. "My … soul?"

And then suddenly, he looked really scared. "Y-You. You're the devil."

"Nonsense!" I spat in faux disgust. "I'm a demon. I don't just make Faustian bargains; I make sure you know exactly what you are getting into!" I pulled out a Geas Contract I had prepared from my inventory and presented it to him. "So sign the deal, enjoy the few days of freedom you'll have, but at the end of the week, you'll be my puppet."

He tried to run. He didn't get very far.

I had to knock him out so that I could take him back to my base without issue.


	8. Chapter 8

**2008.9.7**

Over the last half-week, I did a lot of work. I gained nineteen "servitude" contracts. Like with the first three, I turned them all into Tagers with absolute command over them. But today was not about the twenty-two Tagers I had under my command, and not all of the Tagers I now had were the footsoldiers that the Phantoms were; I had a few Mirages and even two Vampires. Still, it was not about how powerful they were and how - if I wanted to - I could take over the city with a good chance of success; twenty-two low-tier "parahumans" was more than what the rest of the capes Brockton Bay had combined.

Today was about a new toy that I would make.

I teleported into the isolation chamber, and looked around. The light was still on and most of the objects and furniture were where they were supposed to be.

But the woman I'd trapped here was on the bed. She was breathing but her eyes were looking dazedly.

'Did she lose her mind?'

I walked up to her in my Obyrith form and stared down at her.

Seconds passed and then minutes passed.

The Nazi girl finally realized that there was someone else in the room, and her eyes slowly came into focus.

She slowly sat up while staring up at me with wide forlorn eyes. Despite having eaten the meals I provided her, her cheeks had shrunk a little. Her pretty blonde hair hung disheveled, and her shoulders hung drooping from her body.

"Will it be another six weeks, my dear, or will you sign the contract?" I asked as I brought out the contract. She stared at the contract and tears began to fall as she reached wordlessly for the contract and signed it without pause. The moment she put her name down, I knew everything there was to know about her.

Her name was Charlotte Herren, a barely eighteen year old Neo-Nazi who already killed a black man. She was as hateful as Nazis can get, but even her hate was now under my control. The contract she signed didn't just hand me command over herself; it gave away her soul.

"P-Please let me out," she begged me hoarsely and then began to sob. "I can f-f-feel myself g-going crazy…!"

I hummed as I looked over her.

"Lay down."

Her eyes widened as her body moved without her permission. She laid down, still sniffling, and I pulled her legs apart.

"O-Oh God. The d-devil is going to take m-me…!" she sobbed.

"Hush. The devil wouldn't have touched you because you were doing his evil deeds yourself already," I replied before stripping myself. "The devil won't fuck you, but I will." She stared at my dick in horror. Unlike my human dick, my Obyrith form's dick was over a foot long with thickness to match.

I gripped her dirty costume and tossed it aside like the rag it was. I pulled her mask off and stared at her face. Her heart shaped face, blue eyes, and blonde hair, despite the stress of the situation, would have been the perfect poster child for the Neo-Nazi gang. She was cute, but it was not going to be some Nazi who would marry her but it would me who would use her like a cattle.

After all, humans were prey for demons like myself.

Unable to disobey the command I gave her, she laid there as my foot long dick grinded against her clit. She hiccuped and sobbed as the consequences of her actions settled in. "No, no, no…!" she cried.

I hummed gleefully, ignoring her pleas, as I continued to grind myself on her. I picked up the pace as I felt myself grow stiffer. Then I abruptly stopped.

"Sit up."

She fought to move away when her limbs moved but she wasn't in control. She never would be and that very thought made me want to shove myself into her, but I had more control than that. Instead, when she finally sat up, I gave her more orders.

"Open your mouth and keep it open."

She sobbed, and I grabbed both sides of her head. I lined my dick to her open mouth, and pushed myself slowly down. Her eyes widened in horror and fear as she choked on my dick. She brought up her hands and tried to push herself away, but she was too weak.

Annoyed with her antics, I shoved all of myself down, penetrating deep into her esophagus. Her eyes rolled over and her hands gripped at my thighs tightly.

I pulled myself back out, leaving only the tip inside her mouth and pistoned shallowly. Her gagged and choked, lubricating my dick regardless. She even tried to use her tongue to push me out, but all it did was arouse me more as she licked at the tip of my dick and slipped constantly.

Despite being far from done, I pulled my dick out of her mouth.

"You can close your mouth now if you want."

And she did, only to break out into sobs.

"Lay back down with your legs apart."

Her body obeyed, and I saw how wet she was. She was ready.

I lined myself up and slowly pushed in.

Charlotte shrieked as her vagina stretched to its limit trying to take me in. I mercilessly tore through her hymen and then reached her cervix. Then I pushed further and pushed my dick into her womb. She cried and screamed as I pulled out and slammed back into her.

I thrusted and thrusted and thrusted, each time getting Charlotte to beg for me to stop. She screamed as I violated her.

I reached down and clamped her arms to the bed. Pinned down and thrusted into, her body bounced up and down. Her boobs - perfectly round unlike Rebecca's huge, perky ones - bounced up and down, and I couldn't help it.

I lowered my bird-like head and caught one of her breasts in my beak and squeezed.

Everette's head snapped up and she mewled.

Then she spasmed before going limp, even as I continued to thrust into her.

I smirked. 'She just climaxed.'

Letting go of her breast, I continued to thrust into her, pistoning my four inch girth and foot long dick in and out of her like a well-oiled machine.

She laid there, exhausted from her first sexual climax, while I continued to pump her.

Then I picked up speed as I felt my own climax approaching quickly.

"Get ready, Charlotte," I grunted before clamping down on her harder than before and thrusting deep into her one last time.

She laid there with glazed eyes and tear-stricken face as I ejaculated. I had the load to match my size, and soon, my semen was dripping out of her vagina even with my dick plugging her up. I relished in her flesh before pulling out of her, and I watched as her gaping vagina quiver while my semen dribbled out of her.

"You know," I started talking casually. "I could never do this to … normal people." I flipped her on her knees before plunging back in. "It just doesn't get me up. All of those Tagers, a third of them are women and half of them are lookers, but I just can't get it up."

She didn't respond beyond the moanings. I banged her repeatedly, using her like a fuck toy because that's exactly what she was.

"But when I look at criminals like you? The weak like Rebecca? It's like a fire. It's weird but I love it. It turns me on so much-!"

After ten minutes, I ejaculated again.

I pulled out of her and left her laying flat on her stomach.

"I guess it just proves that I really am a demon." I then noticed that she'd fainted. Snorting, I hurled her unconscious body over my shoulder and then teleported to the second floor. Thankfully, Steven was out so only my new fuck toy, Rebecca, and I were there. Rebecca saw me because she was in the living room reading something and then flinched when she saw Charlotte on my shoulder, still dribbling my semen from her vagina.

I created a shadow clone on the spot. "Get her cleaned up and set up in one of the empty rooms," I said as I laid her down on the couch.

"I just cleaned the place…" Rebecca complained quietly.

The clone and I laughed. "Sorry, sorry," I said. "I'll leave the clone with you to help you clean up the mess."

"No."

I blinked. "No?"

She frowned and pointed to the clone's indecency. "Steven is going to be home soon."

I looked at the clone, and realized that the clone was dribbling in fluids as I was. Both of us were sweaty, drenched with cum and fluids on our still throbbing dicks (want to fuck Rebecca but holding back), and not wearing any clothes.

"Fair enough," I said before crossing my fingers. There was a poof, and instead of another naked me, a casually dressed me stepped out of the smoke with an annoyed face.

"Why do I have to clean up your mess?" the clone grumbled.

Rebecca snickered from the side as the new clone continued to grumble while hauling the new toy over its shoulder and dragged its feet to the bathroom to wash the toy. While the clone did that, Rebecca turned to me.

"Why can't you be nicer to girls?" she asked with a frown.

I quirked an eyebrow as I dismissed the dirty clone. "You're getting bolder, Rebecca," I replied without answering her question.

She sighed. "I think I know you enough at this point that a little 'cheek' as you would put it wouldn't get me in real trouble with you," she replied. "Besides, I have your baby right here," she added while caressing her belly. She was nearing the end of her trimester now, so the baby was coming soon. In fact, we intended to get her into the hospital soon. "What are you going to do?"

I snorted. "You should be wary of what I could do after you give birth," I replied.

She smiled instead. "I don't mind our usual marathons~."

I blinked. "You thought you hated sex marathons," I replied curiously.

She cupped her cheeks and blushed. "Well…" she tittered. "I guess you don't appreciate something until you miss it?" she replied, a little hesitant while glancing at me.

I blinked again before bursting out laughing. It took me a while to get a hold of myself. "So you're okay with giving yourself to a literal demon, huh?"

She looked up at me. The previously blush and smile were still there but there was also a solemn stare to it. It made her beautiful. "When you made me sign that contract, I learned everything that you kept from me, even the details that weren't supposed to be seen on the paper itself. You could have made me a slave, and you know it." She paused. "You could have made me abandon my son. You could have done so many things, you know that, right?"

I didn't talk and allowed her to continue.

"You could have ignored the baby inside me, you could have done everything you wanted, and I would be happy because you would have twisted me. If you really wanted, then I wouldn't even what I am. I would just know that pleasuring you was all there was to the world. Being used would have been all there was, and you held my life in your hands… and you didn't twist it. You didn't torture me, didn't dismember me, and I know now that it was easily possible on your whims."

"... You know that you are still a slave of mine, right?" I replied earnestly. I was pleasantly surprised because her little speech here boiled down to two concepts: acceptance and gratitude. Two concepts that most wouldn't associate with enslavement.

"I know," she replied. "But you wouldn't hurt me. Not anymore."

I stared at her before smiling too.

"A slave shouldn't be so upfront about such things," I chided playfully before changing myself back to Obyrith form. I wrapped my arms around her and she reached out to me too. I set her on my lap and held her.

Oddly enough, I liked this slave very much. Her words hit point that I hadn't expected to hit. They pushed forward issues between us without aggravating me or hurting herself. She was … a gem in the rough. For me, that was.

"So what are you going to do now, Alan?" she asked. "You've been gathering a lot of minions."

I couldn't help it.

"Why... I'll do the same thing we do every night, Rebecca. I'll try to take over the city."


	9. Chapter 9

**2008.9.11**

After a long night of labor, Rebecca gave me a daughter, and we named our first daughter Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was a wee little thing. She didn't have any of my "demonic" features, inheriting most of hers from her mom. My Elizabeth was a pale ginger haired baby. Watching her cry and then suckle on her mom's tits...

I fell in love with her at first sight.

My baby girl.

I giggled, which didn't sound great to most. My giggle reminded myself of boulders tumbling down the side of a cliff like a vertical cavalry charge.

And yet, Elizabeth gurgled happily within the bundle that I kept her in. I smiled happily as I rocked her back and forth, swaying gently as to not cause her discomfort.

"I'm surprised."

I looked up and saw Rebecca, looking at me as she said: in surprise.

"What?" I asked.

As I told myself before, a lot of our relationship had changed over the months we've been together. Was she my official wife? No. Demons like myself don't have a wife or wives. People, regardless of species, races, ethnicity, culture, background, occupation, gender, religion, or disease were all just possessions.

Rebecca was no longer a slave like I told her she was. She was … something of an emotional support - and wasn't that a doozy; a demon needed emotional support. I vented to her about my projects, and she listened, even giving her biased opinion regarding them. When I needed a physical release, she'd accepted being the tool of my release. She was still my thing… but dare I say that she was the closest to any of my possessions that I would treat as a person.

Elizabeth was also special. She was my daughter. She was still one of my possessions, but she was my most prized possession.

Rebecca's other child, her first son, was less of a possession and more of my possession's thing. As long as he didn't interfere in any of my projects and kept his business to himself, I ignored him more or less. He did, however, seem to be protective of his half-sister as well, so that was a point in his favor.

Rebecca fidgetted.

I quirked an eyebrow as I continued to rock Elizabeth.

"Yes?"

She looked down while folding her hands together in her lap. "Well, you already healed me, right?" she asked.

One of the tagers I'd Mastered with geis contracts and magic was a midwife, a rarity in North America. With her help and my clones to help her, Rebecca delivered our little Elizabeth right here in the base rather than in a hospital somewhere. I then used my healing spells that I learned specifically for this purpose from my Gamer power. It was a complicated system that had spell slots, exchangeable spells, and whatnot.

The point was, even though she'd given birth less than a week ago, Rebecca had fully recovered at this point.

"And?" I asked, still engrossed in cooing at my daughter.

"And Steven doesn't come home for another five hours?"

I stared at her as she blushed and then barked out a laugh. I made a shadow clone, which took Elizabeth from me to continue to rock and coo, while I scooped up Rebecca. I carried her to our bedroom.

We didn't come out for hours.

Who knows. Maybe she's pregnant again after that.

Regardless, I think I was going to take the next few months easy. No more big time raids on the Nazis, no attacking the heroes unless they provoke it, and certainly spending more time with Elizabeth.

**-VB-**

**2008.9.20**

My Tagers and I broke through the rooftop of another Empire safehouse. We spared none inside and made out with everything worth taking, even the poor quality narcotics.

Having twenty-two people to feed really struck the finances hard, and I was forced to make these minor raids.

I also had the habit of capturing these Nazis to "reform" into upstanding Tagers, which didn't help my finances.

**-VB-**

**2008.10.9**

A clash with the Protectorate ENE in Downtown led to the death of one of my Tagers but I took the arm of a Protectorate hero.

When Rebecca angrily asked why I was dragging a bloody arm into the house, I told her that the heroes started the fight.

**-VB-**

**2008.11.1**

The New Wave bunch tried to throw down with me, but I just gave them the middle finger and got away with two hundred thousand dollars worth of goods that the ABB safehouse had.

**-VB-**

**2008.11.27**

Charlotte - previously known as Othala - had a three month pregnancy belly.

I still fucked her with clones regardless.

**-VB-**

**2008.12.3**

I danced in front of Elizabeth, getting her to giggle and laugh.

Oh, and Rebecca was pregnant again.

**-VB-**

**2009.1.6**

"Someone's looking for us?" I asked. "Who?"

One of my Tagers who patrolled the streets in the Docks nodded shakily. He was one of those that resisted extensively when I recruited him, leading me to use equally extensive persuasive means. He lasted the longest, actually; he set the record for the longest resistance at two weeks. I was actually close to just butchering him and using his remains as material for future rituals.

"It's one of Coil's mercenaries."

I hummed contemplatively. Coil was the least known leader of criminal organizations of Brockton Bay, leading the most unknown organization. All everyone knew about his organization was that he used tinkertech and mercenaries and most of his operations were low key.

I didn't care about him for the same reason that I didn't care about the average civilian of Brockton Bay; attacking and uprooting his organization was more hassle that it was worth as was attacking poor civilians for their money.

"Did you find out why they were?"

"Y-Yes. Coil wants to hire your service, sir."

This Coil seemed to be under a misconception. I should correct it. "For the next month, find anyone in Brockton Bay who has even a sliver of a link to Coil and kill them. It doesn't matter if they are cape, police, heroes, civilian, or criminal."

"Yes, sir!" Then he quickly fled my office.

I tapped my human finger on the table. It was awkward to do paperwork - keeping track of where I spent the money, what expenditure I had, and how much money went to supporting Rebecca, Steven, and Elizabeth - in my Obyrith form, so this office was made to fit my human form.

Over the last six months, I've had to deal with more administrative needs while my Tagers took over the lesser issues. Like patrolling for victims. Like kidnapping for victims. Like ritualistic sacrifices. Like making more Tagers from victims.

Of course, I kept the solely necessary part of my operation to myself: the geis contracts.

That said, I was now at a point in my operation where I had enough Tagers as a foundation for power projection. The nature of Tagers and the geis contracts that bound them to me also prevented any mind control Masters from undermining me, which was great and made my hold on power safer.

… Perhaps, could I use Coil's investigation into me as a starting point, the casus belli, to start the takeover of Brockton Bay's underworld? To wipe the slate clean of the filth and create a world in my image?

Of demons, blood, and rituals?

I couldn't help the sinister jaw-to-jaw smile that my lips twisted into.

**-VB-**

**2009, January 7  
Alan's Court Report**

Court Members:  
Alan Marris, Rebecca Soto-Volya, Steven Soto-Volya, Charlotte (Othala)

Levy: 0  
Garrison: 0  
Retinue: 35 Tagers


	10. Chapter 10

**2009.3.16**

While I deliberated on how I should carve up Brockton Bay to my image, there was another Endbringer attack. The attack came in the middle of the night for us, however, and I just didn't feel like EXP farming, not when I would have to leave the house and come back to find my daughter bawling her eyes out cuz her daddy wasn't there to rock her to sleep.

Despite being only six months old, my little Elizabeth already knew who her daddy was! Yes, she does, yes she does~!

*Brrrrr*

Elizabeth squealed as I blew raspberries on her stomach.

**2009.3.20**

It took me about two months to final decide what to do about Brockton Bay. It took that long because I considered the project to be that much of an importance that I intentionally took my time to deliberate on each plan I mad.

There were initially seven plans I created, which were then reduced to three for the sake of simplicity.

Plan A was called the Stupid Plan because it was essentially going out using hundreds of Tagers to establish a dominance over the city by killing every cape that didn't submit to me. This excluded Faultline and her crew because we signed a nonaggression pact. Despite being called stupid, this plan actually called for a meticulous and subtle build-up of my Tagers outside of watching eyes.

I still called it stupid because enacting that plan would mean a kill order for me.

Plan B's nickname was "Contracts Galore." Instead of butchering my way across the city, I could force the important few under my contracts. Problem with this was the fact that many such individuals were elected individuals; elections were fickle, even with the most corrupt combination of voting manipulation. A safer and proper method of Contracts Galore would be to geiss basically a hundredth of city's population, which I wasn't keen on doing simply because of how complicated shit can get with that many people involved.

Rebecca called Plan C the safe plan because the overarching goal of Plan C was to take over the underworld of Brockton Bay. Forget about the city itself and focus on the criminals and capes. It was indeed the safe plan because I wouldn't have to fight a two-front war against both the criminal capes and their minions as well as the authorities and the independent heroes.

The details of Plan C involved espionage, blackmailing, intrigue, and then eventual assassination and execution of all capes who refused to submit to me. I was, after all, a demon lord. I, as a lord, demanded the submission of those lesser than me, and if they refused, then it was their fault for signing their death warrant.

So that was the plan I began to work on.

It still required a lot of Tagers.

**2009.3.27**

My first target was the Empire. I just hated them and their stupidity. The fact that they existed was a stain on human intelligence and wisdom.

Or was it the epitome of human manipulation?

Either way, they weren't mine and an affront that a demon like myself could not allow to stand. Besides, they were already my enemy. What did it cost me to start a proper war with them? With nearly fifty Tagers under my command now, I could afford to spare two dozen Tagers on just seeking out the white supremacists and murdering them to kingdom come.

**2009.4.6**

My Tagers were just too great. Capable of changing their appearance at will after hiding, they were Strangers coupled with Brutes, Blasters, and Shakers. With only two dozen out of fifty launching an attack every day with at least half their numbers, the Empire began to shrink to protect itself.

The local and state news was bleating about the conflict as a gang war instead of calling the extermination for what it was.

**2009.4.8**

My Tagers found where one of the Empire's lieutenants lived. The poor fools were still under the assumption that my forces would not break the Unwritten Rules. Seeing as this lieutenant was considered one of the most powerful capes in the city, I decided to participate in the attack myself.

Leading only three Tagers, we silently floated down from the sky to the rooftop of the affluent apartment in the Downtown district. All of us were in our demonic and monstrous forms, but against the barely lit streets, it was hard to see us and, oddly enough, people don't tend to look up or point their security cameras towards the sky unless someone made a sound.

*Srcht*

I turned and glared at one of the Tagers, a Mirage, that looked frightened by my attention. It had just made a sound, which could alert people who lived on the topmost floor of this building, including our target.

I quickly transformed into a raven. "Caw, caw, caw!" I crowed.

We waited in silence. Nothing.

I transformed back into my demonic self and glared at the Mirage again.

It sheepishly and submissively bowed and moved away.

I huffed and then turned towards the rooftop entrance. We moved silently and opened the door, having been previously opened by my orders to one of the infiltrators to this Empire owned building. The door opened without a sound thanks to its well-oiled hinge. The doorway was too small, though, so we changed back to our human forms.

We made our way down, and soon, we were in front of our target's door.

I pulled out a key, copied by my infiltrator Tager, and slowly opened the door as silently as possible.

*Click scrtch click*

It still made a sound, but only as loud as it had to be.

We walked in, silently. It was as normal as an apartment home could be in an affluent area of the city with the stereotypical clean and pattern decorations so common in modern trends. The three Tagers waited outside; I'd brought them along as insurance in the first place, and I didn't need them anymore from here on out.

I opened the door to the master bedroom, and saw my target.

She stirred.

I grinned.

This was Kayden Russel, also known as Purity. She became a member of the Empire Eighty-Eight three months ago. With her power, she's been a pain in the ass for my Tagers, chasing them down wherever they were and blasting them to nothing. Because of her, some of my experienced Tager leaders died.

So it was only fair that I get some payback from her, right?

Silently, I pulled the sheets back and then reached into my inventory. From it, I pulled out a plain gold necklace.

Purity was too strong for me to chain and force into signing a geass; she would burst her way out of whatever prison I make for her because I wasn't advanced enough in thaumaturgy, ninjutsu, or enchanting to create a prison that could stop her attacks. She also didn't have anyone else who she would sacrifice herself for, either.

The conclusion had been to enslave her right off the bat.

I had enchanted this necklace with control and soul suppression, which would kill the personality of the wearer over time while ensuring that I had physical control over her.

I slid it around her head, laying it down gently so as to not arouse her.

And then I yanked it down.

The necklace lit up in pale yellow and Kayden woke up screaming.


	11. Chapter 11

**2009.4.20**

It was done.

I completed the last of the rituals to bind Kayden Russel, AKA Purity, to myself as a servant. Kayden herself laid motionless outside of her shivering body and the rise and fall of her chest in the middle of the ritual circle.

The ritual that bound her to me was a simple slave-master ritual, though I used the Thaumaturgy variant rather than a mutagenic Cthulhutech variant.

"Clean yourself, Kayden," I ordered her before turning to others, most of whom were Tager. "Help her clean herself. The ritual is sure to have drained of her physical strength." The state of her mental strength went unsaid; they helped with the ritual that chained her mind, after all.

Time, as it always was, was my greatest weapon. With time on my side, I kept on learning more and more of all of the magics and powers I had. With time, I pushed myself higher and higher towards the top. Top was where I belonged. I was an obyrith, essentially a demon lord. I deserved to be at the top, because I _worked _for it.

With Kayden's enslavement, I stood at the top of the food chain in Brockton Bay - nay, the entire New England - in terms of firepower alone. My company of Tagers, Purity, and myself made for a formidable power bloc. It was time I exert that power.

And what was the best exertion of power if not the complete annihilation of my "rivals"?

It would have to wait, however, until Kayden became adjusted to her new status. As she was…

I stared at Kayden as she stumbled while trying to get up. Her face remained impassive and blank despite her own inability to even stand properly. Yes, if I intended to use her for future battles against the rest of the city's criminals, then I would have to wait until she healed.

That said, I was a little peckish. For sex, that was. I didn't want to bother Rebecca right now, because she was at Steven's preschool for a play. I could fuck Charlotte, but she was heavy with my baby and I didn't want to bother with being gentle.

I glanced at the Tagers helping Kayden as I'd ordered them to. Many of them were men, but there were a few women among them…

But then again, most of the Tagers were homeless and destitute that I picked up from the streets, literally. You don't know what kind of diseases they had prior to the conversion. With the conversion, I didn't want to find out what happened to any of the venereal diseases they might have had. Did they mutate? Gone sleeper cell? Complete CNS takeover? Cause tentacles to sprout?

Considering that one of the Tagers, James, had that exact tentacle sprouting mutation all across his lower face, I didn't want to know.

I sighed.

I guess it was time to do more research.

I supposed that even demon lords feared venereal diseases...

-VB-

**2009.4.27**

After a full week of tests involving willing Tagers, unwilling Tagers, and new captives caught for just this research, I found out that what few healing spells I could use were capable of healing venereal diseases. My Gamer system reported them as minor poisoning/decay debuff.

Demon lords no longer had to fear venereal diseases.

"M-Master?"

I looked up from the research table, where one of the now dead captives laid. Their heart beat and their blood flowed, but the mind was gone. A vegetable, most would call this. At least, AIDs no longer infected this body anymore.

As for who had called me, it was one of the household Tagers, a new designation for Tagers. They were those who would help Rebecca, who was more or less my main woman, in taking care of the base. There were four of them in total, and this one was called Alicia. She was a tall brunette. She was the liveliest of the household Tagers, but she feared me enough to be docile when I was in her sight.

"What is it?" I demanded, a little gruff from having spent the last four hours stuck in this lab doing multiple experiments.

"Y-You asked m-me to report to y-you when K-Kayden is fit to fight?" she squeaked out. She obviously wanted to jump out of my sight, preferably keeping a wall between me and her (not that it would help).

"I did. What is her condition?"

The reason why she was responsible for reporting this to me was because she was a nurse.

"She is physically fit, b-but her mental faculties are…" she gulped nervously.

"I'm keeping her that way," I replied as I stood up. "Throw this vegetable out. I'm done with it," I ordered as I walked out of the lab and towards my operation room. She squeaked when she saw the body that she hadn't seen because I had been standing in her line of sight. Then there was a stammer before she went off to get someone.

I, on the other hand, ignored it all while thinking about the current speed of the Plan C operation. As of the moment, I now had more than half of my Tagers infiltrating all manners of civilian institutions, gangs, and some even within the PRT itself as janitors and office workers.

But it wasn't proceeding quickly enough for my liking. So far, I had dismantled some Merchant groups near Downtown Coast and butchered an ABB thugs that tried to expand into Downtown Coast, but that was about it.

Intellectually, I knew that I had to wait.

Sentimentally, I wanted it all done and gone.

I made my way up the stairs and then to the second floor… Where ELIZABETH WAS WAITING FOR HER DADDY-!

**-VB-**

**2009.4.28**

I stared at the Tager in front of me. Currently in her human form, the household Tager, the very same Alicia who'd interrupted me during one of my lab sessions yesterday, trembled while she stared up at me with wide terrified eyes.

I've been watching her for a few days now. As I've noted before, she was an energetic one. Even when others felt the weight of their slavery and change into something that wasn't entirely human, she joked, danced, and gossiped to keep everyone else's moods up. It was in vain, of course. It was delicious watching people who didn't want to kill forced to kill others, even those who they knew.

For Alicia, killing others wouldn't break her as it broke others. No, it needed to be far more personal. She had to be the victim.

She screamed in fright when I grabbed her wrist and began to drag her to my bedroom.

"Master, please, no no-!" she begged me with sobs in between while she dragged her heels. I glanced at the other household Tagers hiding behind doorways and one even hiding behind Rebecca herself. Rebecca did not look happy with what was happening, but she knew better than to interfere.

I pulled Alicia through the door and into then pushed the door close. She jolted when that happened, leaving her alone with me. She looked up at me with wide eyes, terrified and paralyzed.

I scooped her up and walked to the bed. Alicia tried to push off of me, but my arms were too strong. Besides, I was letting her resist. It wouldn't be fun otherwise.

Unlike Rebecca who I felt a smidgen of pity for because of how she came to be under my sway, Alicia here used to run with the Merchants as one of their peddlers. Oh, she had her reasons for doing it, but one's needs did not erase one's sins.

And this demon's here to collect on her sins.

She screamed as I stripped her clothes, ripping them away from her nubile body like the obstacles they were. She sobbed as I flipped her around. She tried to crawl away, but a quick binding spell inherent to one of my racial classes kept her pinned. I stripped myself shortly, and brought myself to her rear. Her sobs shorted out with a stiffening of her body as I placed my dick between her butt cheeks.

Grabbing her ass, I grinded myself between them, and it wasn't long until I came, staining her back with my seed.

Still hard, I pulled myself back and saw her pussy, wet and ready.

Good, because I didn't like lubeless penetration. That shit burned.

I placed the head of my dick at her entrance, and before she could even protest, I slid deep into her. Alicia screamed as I began to pound into her. Unable to move due to my binding, she screamed and sobbed in a single position while I pumped her raised pussy and reddened her ass cheeks with my unceasing thrusts.

I came inside of the brunette after what seemed like half an hour, and I felt her walls squeeze around me, choking and milking my dick at the same time as she orgasmed, too. I undid the binding, and her body slackened, her raised rear sliding down.

Not quite done with her, I flipped her around and spread her legs apart. She looked at me with wide eyes.

Just then, I penetrated her again, violating her from the front this time.

"No, please stop. Stop it-!" she sobbed as I took her. With no bindings holding her down, she tried to push and fight, but she couldn't call up her Tager transformation. I felt her calling up on it, but I kept blocking it with my control over her.

Tired of her powerless resistance at this point, I grabbed both of her wrists, wrestled them up over her head, and pinned them to the bed under one hand. My free hand wrapped around her neck and gripped tightly. She choked as I began to pound into her.

Her face began to blue, and abruptly, I let go. Her body spasmed and limbs locked up as she orgasmed again, and this time, I felt new juices coating my dick. The way her pussy locked around me like a vice grip sent me over the edge and I slammed into her, ejaculating into her womb.

I let go of her wrists now, and she stared up at me with blank, dead eyes. Breathing and alive, but her mind was away from this place.

That wouldn't do.

I brought my fingers up and snapped thrice in front of her, a command written into her Geiss Contract that got her mind to focus. Her eyes gained focus and sharpened. She looked at me, and tears began anew. I ignored her sobs and begging. tThis time, I had other plans. I had my fun taking a resisting woman. Now, I wanted a woman who wanted to be taken.

"I command you to become a breeding bitch," I drawled and watched as the command change her. For a split second, her body locked up as her mind was forcibly changed by the eldritch-ritual backed Geiss Contract. Her shocked and desperate face slowly morphed into needy and sultry stare begging me to fuck her more. "What do you say, pet?"

Unlike her screeching, screaming, and sobbing past self, she was anything but resisting now. "T-Take me like an animal, master," she cooed, pulling her arms down and pushed her breasts up.

I took her again.

I alternated her state of mind, returning her lucidity, and allowing her to realize just how trapped she was and how her mind wasn't even under her control, and then fucking her before making her a slut for me to breed.

It was a nice way to waste time away while my field Tagers did the job for me.


End file.
